The storm had passed.
But the silence it left behind was deafening.
Amina stood at the edge of the ruined altar atop Mount Velora. Ash coated the sacred stones like snow. Below, remnants of the skyships lay embedded in the mountain's face, and dragons curled into themselves, their eyes dulled as if mourning the loss of something ancient.
She should have felt victorious.
Instead, her soul trembled with unrest.
Valec sat not far from her, his back against a broken pillar. His once glowing veins had faded, the divine fire within him quelled. Yet, in his silence, there was peace—a strange, reluctant peace that unnerved her more than war ever had.
He was changing.
Becoming human again.
Too fast.
Too quiet.
Too much.
Kai approached, his robes torn, his eyes shadowed. "The people are gathering in the lower valley. They're waiting for you."
Amina didn't answer.
"Waiting for their Flamebearer," he added softly.
She turned to him, her voice low. "They expect me to lead."
"They need you to," Kai said. "Even if you don't want to."
Amina closed her eyes, her heart caught between the warmth of purpose and the cold ache of what she left behind in the Void.
Elian.
She heard his voice sometimes. A whisper in the winds. A flicker in every dying flame.
He was part of her now—forever.
Later that night
Amina walked the sacred halls of Velora's temple—what remained of them. Rubble and light danced in equal measure across the fractured marble. Her fingers brushed symbols that once pulsed with divine energy.
She stopped.
There, at the far end of the corridor, stood a figure cloaked in midnight and shadow.
Not hostile.
Not familiar.
But ancient.
"You carry the mark of Amariel," the figure said, voice like the wind over graves.
Amina straightened. "Who are you?"
The figure stepped forward. Under the hood, a woman's face—cracked with time, but eyes glowing with stardust.
"I am Elira," she said. "High Flamekeeper of the First Dawn."
Amina froze.
That name… was myth.
"You're dead."
Elira smiled. "Yes. And no."
She opened her palm. A small orb of fire spun within it—chaotic, unstable.
"The seal Elian took is breaking again," she whispered. "Not because of him—but because the world remembers what it was like to burn."
Amina felt her chest tighten. "I don't understand. We restored the balance. We chose."
"Yes," Elira said. "But balance is not a destination—it's a war that never ends."
She took a step closer, her presence chilling.
"Valec is not the only god returning, Amina. The ones who made him... the ones who watched Amariel fall... they stir again. And they are not merciful."
Amina staggered back. "I thought they were destroyed."
"No," Elira said. "They were waiting."
At the edge of the world
In the deepest ocean trench, blacker than night, a crack split open.
From it poured tendrils of fire laced with void.
A voice whispered from within—older than stars, colder than death:
"She lit the flame.
Now we return to claim it."
And something began to rise.