Marin stands at the edge of the bridge, her blade dark with blood, her posture steady in a way that does not belong to the chaos around her. At her feet, Maireth lies still.
She did it.
Not for the crown. Not for the war. For herself. For her kingdom.For her wife.
No words pass between them. None are needed. Marin lifts her chin, just slightly. And Elyssara nods.
I will keep your Starbound alive. I will find cracks in the Caelorian strategy. And I will be your ally on the battlefield when the time comes.
That’s what Marin had said. And it is exactly what she did.
Hope blooms in Elyssara’s chest for a fraction of a heartbeat, and it is enough. She turns back to the fight. And runs.
No longer hunting for Kael—she wants Nyrielle erased from her fucking kingdom.
Nyrielle is still moving, her power lashing outward in wide, devastating arcs that tear through the battlefield without discrimination. Caelorian, Nymerian, and Dravari alike caught in the wake of something that has long since stopped distinguishing between ally and enemy. Only erasure.
Elyssara does not slow. Light rises beneath her skin, answering the fury in her chest, the grief, the loss, the sharp, relentless drive that refuses to let this end here. She gathers it, every thread she can reach, and hurls it forward in a blinding surge.
If she’s going to die, she’s going to take Nyrielle with her.
Her strike lands.
The blast tears through the advancing lines, splintering formations and consuming every soldier left exposed.
For a heartbeat, it looks like it might matter.
Nyrielle responds to the chaos, and the smile that curves her mouth is thin, almost amused. Her hand lifts. Unadulterated, divine power answers.
It strikes toward Elyssara with brutal, focused precision, like she’s taking care of a weed with a wildfire. But it shatters against something else. Nyrielle startles, her serene, queenly expression faltering for less than a heartbeat. Even gods forget what it feels like to be challenged.Until they are.
Fire roars to life at Elyssara’s left.
Tarrakai.
He stands at the edge of her vision, his vast and ancient form standing beside her like a personal protector.Because he is.
Tarrakai’s power burns through the night sky. Flame pours from him in a relentless stream, meeting Nyrielle’s attack head-on and driving it back with sheer, unyielding force. His onyx scales gleam amber from the flame—beautiful, deadly.
Not even gods escape me.The Ender of Kingdoms growls the words through the bond, and they come out a vicious, lethal promise.
For a moment, Nyrielle and Tarrakai hold. Magic and fire braced against something far greater than either should withstand. Tarrakai jerks, his mammoth form rearing back, an agonized roar tearing from his throat.
His fire stutters.
Elyssara’s head snaps toward him.
Kael.
He hits from behind with devastating force, shadows and lightning tearing through Tarrakai’s form, ripping at wings and flame, his power wild and merciless as it lashes out without restraint.
“Ronyn!”
But Tarrakai holds, barely, the fire faltering but not failing, his teeth bared as he fights to keep Nyrielle’s attention from snapping fully back to Elyssara. His tail whips around in a sweeping arc. It collides with Kael, sending him sprawling against a half-crumbled building.
“No!” Elyssara screams, but before she can move, everything changes.
The air shifts with a weight that presses down on the battlefield like myth returning to a place it was never meant to leave.
