The world hadn't stopped burning.
Elara sat beneath the twisted roots of a blackened tree, its bark scorched and glowing faintly with embers. Smoke lingered in the air, not from fire, but from the remnants of the Veil—its magic bleeding back into reality like an old wound reopened.
Raphael stirred beside her, his breathing shallow but steady. A torn piece of his sleeve had been wrapped around a wound on his shoulder, and Elara's own hands still trembled from channeling the pendant's power. The ground beneath them had changed. The grass was glasslike, altered by the surge. The sky, once blue, shimmered with faint red streaks, as if the Sovereign's scream had stained it forever.
She hadn't spoken since they landed. She couldn't.
"He's not gone," Raphael said, breaking the silence. His voice was hoarse.
Elara turned her head slightly, eyes still fixed on the horizon. "He isn't here either."
"You saved him. In a different way."
She finally met his eyes. "I don't know if that makes me stronger—or more of a coward."
Raphael shook his head. "It makes you Elara. The one who bears the flame and chooses to hold the world even when it breaks her."
She wanted to believe that. But a part of her had died in that temple.
They stood, slowly. The landscape around them had changed—they weren't in Vaelreach anymore. This was somewhere between realms, where the Veil had once been thickest. The boundary was weaker now, like a cracked mirror. Fractures of red energy floated midair, glowing veins of magic that pulsed like a heartbeat.
As they moved forward, whispers followed them—not just from the plane, but from inside her mind. Memories? Echoes?
Or him.
The chain around her wrist pulsed softly, like a heartbeat.
They came upon ruins—ancient ones. Not built by humans, but something older. Pillars half-submerged in ash. Symbols in flame script. And a brazier that still burned despite no visible fuel.
Elara approached it.
"This place... it was once a stronghold," Raphael murmured, kneeling beside a fallen stone.
"For the Sovereign?"
"No. For those who tried to stop him."
She placed her hand over the brazier. The flames parted around her skin like a memory, revealing a vision:
Niko—laughing.
Then screaming.
Then—silent.
She gasped and pulled back. Her palm burned with a symbol—a spiral of flame around an eye.
Raphael reached for her. "What did you see?"
"The next piece. The seal—it wasn't the last. There are more. If I can find them, maybe I can bring him back. Not all of him, but enough."
"Enough?"
"Enough to say goodbye properly."
Raphael looked at her with an unreadable expression. "You'd go through it all again?"
She nodded. "I already am."
They traveled through the ashlands until the ground shifted into red crystal plains. A storm gathered above them—Veil-touched, howling with spirits. The pendant around her neck began to glow again, brighter than before.
And then, from the shadows, came the Sovereign's mark—drawn in fire across the sky.
Elara stepped forward. "I sealed you once. I'll do it again."
But this time, the voice that answered was not the Sovereign's.
It was Niko's.
"Elara... you have to run. He's changing. I'm not... me."
She froze. The chain pulsed violently. Raphael drew his blade.
"He's still connected to the plane," Raphael said, eyes narrowed. "That seal bound his soul but didn't cleanse it."
"Which means if we can reach the next altar—"
"We might save him. Or lose you both."
The storm screamed.
Elara stared into the sky, where her brother's voice faded like smoke.
She gripped the chain, her voice steady for the first time.
"I won't run. Not this time. If he's slipping... I'll follow him into the dark and bring him back myself."
The wind stirred the grass gently as Elara sat motionless, her fingers gripping the faintly glowing chain around her wrist. Niko's presence, however faint, pulsed within it—a whisper, a flicker of what had been. Not gone. Not entirely.
"I should feel victorious," she murmured, voice barely audible above the breeze. "But all I feel is… hollow."
Raphael shifted beside her, one arm wrapped protectively around her back. "That's what surviving sometimes feels like. Like you left something behind."
"I didn't leave him," she whispered. "I gave him a chance to live beyond this."
"You did," Raphael said. "And now we go forward. For him. For us."
Elara glanced sideways. The smoldering remains of the gate behind them had begun to fade into mist, sealing once more. The Veil no longer pulsed with malevolent energy. The Sovereign's scream had echoed into silence.
But silence didn't mean safety.
"How long do you think we have before something else rises to take his place?" she asked.
Raphael was quiet for a moment. Then: "Long enough to be ready."
She nodded, rising slowly. The chain on her wrist tugged gently, warm and reassuring. It would never fully be Niko—but it was proof he hadn't been lost for nothing. Proof that love, even the most painful kind, could still protect.
As they began to walk, the mists parted before them—not ominous now, but curious. The world was healing. And so were they.
Raphael stepped beside her. "Then I'll walk with you. Into whatever comes next."
They turned toward the mountains where the next seal slept, unaware of the eyes watching from the Veil's edge.
The Sovereign was not done.
And neither was she.
The wind stirred the grass gently as Elara sat motionless, her fingers gripping the faintly glowing chain around her wrist. Niko's presence, however faint, pulsed within it—a whisper, a flicker of what had been. Not gone. Not entirely.
"I should feel victorious," she murmured, voice barely audible above the breeze. "But all I feel is… hollow."
Raphael shifted beside her, one arm wrapped protectively around her back. "That's what surviving sometimes feels like. Like you left something behind."
"I didn't leave him," she whispered. "I gave him a chance to live beyond this."
"You did," Raphael said. "And now we go forward. For him. For us."
Elara glanced sideways. The smoldering remains of the gate behind them had begun to fade into mist, sealing once more. The Veil no longer pulsed with malevolent energy. The Sovereign's scream had echoed into silence.
But silence didn't mean safety.
"How long do you think we have before something else rises to take his place?" she asked.
Raphael was quiet for a moment. Then: "Long enough to be ready."
She nodded, rising slowly. The chain on her wrist tugged gently, warm and reassuring. It would never fully be Niko—but it was proof he hadn't been lost for nothing. Proof that love, even the most painful kind, could still protect.
As they began to walk, the mists parted before them—not ominous now, but curious. The world was healing. And so were they.
The village of Tareth greeted them in stunned reverence. News had traveled ahead somehow—through the skyfires, the shift in magic, the sudden end to the long-burning red in the horizon.
"She did it," a woman whispered as Elara passed. "The Flamebearer sealed the Sovereign."
Children peeked out from behind robes and barrels, eyes wide with awe. For once, Elara didn't flinch beneath the weight of their gazes. She didn't feel like a savior. But she was no longer afraid of their belief, either.
The elders gathered in the main hall, where a new flame now burned at the center—a gentler one, blue and gold instead of red.
"It is done, then?" asked Elder Siran, voice lined with caution and hope.
"Yes," Elara said. "He's sealed. Bound by the chains of choice… and flame."
Another elder, Mareth, stepped forward. "And your brother?"
She hesitated. "Gone. But not lost. He lives in what remains. In me."
No one questioned it. No one dared.