Seraphine had arrived—but she was far from calm.
She stood between Raelith and Sylas, flames from the earlier fireball still licking at the scorched forest floor. The wind tugged at her cloak. Her breath was heavy. Her eyes, burning.
Raelith was behind her—shaking, pale, confused.
She didn't look back at him. Not yet.
Her eyes locked on Sylas. The boy who dared to raise his hand against her brother.
"You tried to kill him," she said, her voice trembling with fury. "You tried to kill my Ray-Ray."
Sylas opened his mouth, probably to protest, but the words never came.
With a flick of her wrist, Seraphine conjured her Flamebrand, a sword of searing crimson fire, its edge humming with heat and wrath.
She raised it.
Sylas staggered back, panic rising. But before she could strike—
CLANG!
A blinding flash of light. A clash of metal.
The Captain of the Guard, a tall man armored in silver rune-plate, appeared in front of Sylas and caught Seraphine's flaming sword with his own enchanted blade. He had arrived in the nick of time, summoned by some hidden signal or instinct.
He was stronger than her—higher-leveled. His aura made the air crackle.
But Seraphine didn't back down.
"Let us go," she demanded, her voice steel.
The Captain shook his head. "You've assaulted the heir of the Second Elder. I cannot let this slide."
"He tried to murder my brother!"
"I do not have the authority to judge that."
"Then fight me," she hissed, raising her sword.
And so he did.
The clash was instant.
Steel rang through the woods. Flames swirled. Sparks flew. Trees trembled under the force of their blows. Despite the difference in power, Seraphine fought with ferocity born not of strength, but of desperation. For every blow the Captain landed, she returned one with twice the rage.
She refused to fall.
Not today.
Not while Raelith lived.
Behind the chaos, Sylas fumbled through his satchel.
His face was red with frustration, teeth clenched. The Captain was supposed to handle this—but Seraphine was proving to be more than just a protective sister. She was a threat. And threats needed to be removed.
He found what he needed.
A Spell Scroll—charred orange, inked with runes.
"Mid-Tier Spell: Flame Javelin."
He activated the scroll.
The paper disintegrated in his hand.
A crackle of fire erupted in the air. A spear of condensed flame, large as a tree trunk, formed above him.
And without a second thought—
He hurled it straight at Raelith.
Raelith's eyes widened.
He couldn't move.
The javelin spun through the air, trailing heat and fire. It would incinerate him completely. He was helpless.
But Seraphine saw it.
Even in the midst of her duel, she turned—eyes locking onto the burning spear.
She moved.
A single step.
A blur of red.
And she was there.
She stood in front of Raelith. Again.
The Flame Javelin struck her directly in the chest.
There was no shield this time.
No spell strong enough to block it.
The impact threw her backward, slamming her into Raelith, both crashing to the ground. The smell of burning metal filled the air. Her armor, charred and melted, cracked apart where the javelin had landed.
Blood spilled from her lips.
Raelith gasped, catching her trembling body in his arms.
"S-Seraphine! No! Why… why would you…?!"
She looked up at him, her face pale, but her eyes warm.
"Because…" she whispered, a soft smile curling on her bloody lips, "…you're my little Ray-Ray."
Raelith choked on his breath. "No. Don't say that. Don't talk like that!"
She winced, trying to breathe. Her hand found his, fingers weakly curling around his.
Then, she summoned the last of her strength.
Her voice, though faint, came out sharp.
"Raelith… run."
"No—no, I can't—!"
"If you won't do it for yourself… then do it as your big sister's last order," she said, smiling weakly. "Live, Ray-Ray."
He froze.
His heart shattered.
He wanted to scream.
Wanted to fight.
Wanted to die beside her.
But her eyes told him she meant it.
And her words came again—louder this time, echoing with the last remnants of her will:
"RUN!"
Sylas stood nearby, horrified.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Killing Raelith? A hidden execution, passed off as guilt and suicide? Sure.
But killing Seraphine, the clan's golden flame?
That was murder. That was treason.
That was death.
He panicked.
"No… no no no…" he muttered, stepping forward, hand glowing with a final spell. "I can't let her live—not after this! She saw too much!"
He began to cast.
But then—light erupted from Seraphine's body.
Golden veins of energy surged through her skin, flickering wildly.
A radiant glow, unnatural and divine, spread across her figure like fire catching dry grass.
The Guard Captain saw it and went white.
"Get back!!" he shouted. "EVERYONE, BACK!!"
He rushed to Sylas and pulled him away by the collar, ignoring his protests. The other guards scrambled, fleeing into the trees like rats.
Raelith, still clutching Seraphine, blinked through his tears.
She looked up at him one last time.
"Go, Ray-Ray…" she whispered. "This… is my last spell. Run."
He stared, trembling.
Then, with one last sob, he ran.
The moment his figure vanished into the woods—
Seraphine's body erupted into blinding light.
A thunderous explosion tore through the forest. Trees bent. The earth shook. Fire and energy swallowed the clearing, consuming everything in a brilliant, sorrowful farewell.
When the smoke cleared—
There was no trace of Seraphine Vale.
Only silence.
And a scar on the world where a sister died to save her brother.