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Snow settled on your lashes as you stared at the destroyed valley.
Hours earlier, this place held laughter. Soldiers trained. Children ran between tents. You saw hope in their eyes. Now the ground looked like scorched glass, cracked and steaming. Bodies lay frozen mid-motion, eyes wide, faces stiff with shock.
Your breath formed cold clouds. Your fists trembled.
Seraphel stood at your side, wings lowered. Her voice stayed low.
"They moved faster than expected."
"They slaughtered civilians," you said.
"They aimed to break morale."
Your jaw tightened. "They failed."
Her look stayed steady. "Your resolve grows darker each day."
"They forced this."
"Your path writes history. Your hate risks drowning your future."
"History already drowned."
She did not argue. Her silence pressed on you more than words.
You knelt beside a fallen boy. Maybe twelve. A carved wooden bird sat in his frozen hand. You remembered him running past campfires. He laughed when sparks jumped. His mother baked bread for tired fighters. She called you a blessing.
Now she lay ten paces away, arms locked around a newborn. Cold stiffened them into one shape.
Your chest hurt. Not from cold. From truth.
Power surged inside you. The world shivered. Ice cracked under your boots. Your shadow shook like it wanted to rise and speak.
Seraphel stepped back. "Control yourself."
You stood. "I am controlled."
She watched you, unsure.
A wind cut through the valley. Smoke rose from distant ruins. Raviel's forces did this. He struck at night, silent, calculated, merciless. His loyal army carried black banners with silver eyes. They hunted your believers. They studied your miracles. They feared you, so they struck first.
You faced the horizon. "He wants a god. He will get one."
Seraphel frowned. "Do not praise wrath."
"Wrath follows justice."
"Justice needs restraint."
"Restraint buried children here."
Your troops arrived from the ridge. Rough steps in snow. Tired faces. Dirt-stained armor. Frost on eyelashes. Their leader, Orion, saluted you. His voice sounded forced steady.
"Lord. We found no survivors."
You nodded once. "Bury every soul. Build a marker."
Orion's eyes reddened. "Understood."
"Prepare the rite. We march at dawn."
Seraphel's wings flared. "Too soon."
"They struck without warning. I answer now."
"You risk collapse."
"You worry too much."
"I worry enough for two worlds."
Orion waited for orders. You pointed to the far hill. "Command center goes there. Ration heat stones. Rotate scouts. Nobody alone."
"Yes."
"And send three messengers south. Tell them we hold. Tell them faith does not freeze."
Orion thumped his fist to his chest. "Your word."
He rushed away. Soldiers spread through the valley. Some cried as they lifted bodies. Some whispered prayers. Others hardened their faces and dug into frozen ground.
Seraphel faced you again. "Killing him will not heal you."
"He started this."
"You both share fault."
"Stop."
"You hold power to rebuild worlds. You treat it like a weapon."
"No," you said, voice sharp. "I treat it like duty."
"You lost sight of mercy."
"Mercy died here."
Her wings lowered. "Do not become the monster they say you are."
You turned from her. "If monsters save the innocent, then a monster I stay."
She reached toward you but stopped short. "Your heart cracks. Fill those cracks with purpose, not grief."
You walked toward the ridge. "My purpose is clear."
From the peak, lights flickered on the distant horizon. Raviel's capital. Tall spires. Ancient temples. A fortress built from faith and fear. He waited there. Confident. Safe. Certain of advantage.
He believed you would bend.
He misjudged you from the first day.
Footsteps approached behind you. Light, hesitant. You did not turn.
A young soldier spoke quietly. "Lord. They found a survivor."
You froze. "Where?"
"Storage tent. Under debris. A girl."
Your pulse quickened. "Bring me."
You reached the shattered tent. A medic knelt beside a pale girl wrapped in blankets. She breathed shallow. Lips blue. Fingers shaking.
She stared at you with exhausted eyes. "You... came."
"Yes," you said.
"They tried to hide us," she whispered. "Mother told me to stay still."
"Where is she?"
Tears slid down her cheeks. "Gone."
You crouched. "You live. You honor her."
Her eyes fluttered. "They said you forgot us. They said you only protect chosen ones."
You felt your chest tighten. "You are mine to protect."
She reached for your hand. Her voice almost silent. "Do not leave others like us. Promise."
You closed your hand over hers. Warm power passed into her body. Her breathing steadied. Color returned to her cheeks. Pain faded from her eyes.
"I promise," you said.
The girl fainted from exhaustion, but her grip eased in peace.
Seraphel watched from afar. She saw what power looked like when not fueled by rage. You pretended not to notice her.
You stood and faced the valley again. Voices echoed behind you. Workers digging. Soft chants. Wind moving snow.
Your promise echoed louder.
Do not leave others like us.
You would not.
You looked toward Raviel's domain. He believed fear ruled. He believed cruelty shaped destiny. He believed he ended gods.
Your voice stayed low. "I will show him truth."
Seraphel approached. "And what truth is that?"
You met her eyes. "A creator suffers for creation. A tyrant hides behind it."
"You walk thin ice."
"I walk forward."
"Your enemies prepare."
"So do I."
"You risk losing yourself."
"I lost myself already. I seek something else."
She studied your face. "Hope?"
"No. Balance."
She nodded slowly. "Balance breaks worlds before it saves them."
"I know."
"And you accept that risk."
"I do."
She looked toward the horizon. "Then war begins soon."
"No," you said. "War already began. Now judgment arrives."
You returned to the girl. You placed your cloak over her. She slept with steady breath. Peace touched one soul. That mattered more than victory. More than vengeance.
More than heaven or earth.
You whispered one final vow to the wind.
"Every life taken will weigh on him. Every tear spilled will return to him. I build a world worth living for. He builds graves. I end his reign."
Snow fell slower. The air felt still. Power gathered in your chest, quiet and sharp.
Tomorrow you marched.
Tonight you remembered.
And you did not break.