Seraphine stood just a few steps away from me now. The ground between us was still scorched by the flames of magic that had just erupted, forming an invisible line between past and future. "Arven," she said again, this time more softly, like a reluctant prayer. "You can still choose. I know your heart is still in that demon's body." I smiled bitterly. "And I know your heart is still behind that false crown." She gripped her staff tighter. "Don't force me to bring you down." "I have come to bring down no one, Seraphine. But if you choose to be the hand that wields the sword of hatred, then I will not back down." For a moment, only the sound of the wind could be heard. Then, light burst from her staff like lightning nailed to the ground, forming the symbol of a winged sun. The knights of the Order began to advance, neat rows forming a giant spear.
"LYSETTE!" I shouted. A shout of reply came from behind, accompanied by a sudden explosion of magic as a wall of earth rose from the left flank, crashing into the enemy's spear formation and breaking the ranks. Beastkin leapt from behind the bushes, charging at incredible speed, slashing at the legs and joints of the knights' armor. Magical arrows were hurled by the elves from behind the lines, following the rhythm of the battle. Amidst it all, Seraphine and I stood still, like the axis of two colliding worlds. "I wanted to believe in you, Seraphine. I used to. But this world cannot be built on empty faith and holy names that are merely tools," I said, quietly but sharply. She took a breath, then swung her staff. A circle of light formed beneath her feet—a high-level paralyzing spell. I raised my left hand. My protective spell formed a shield of fire that pulsed like a heart, countering her holy light. The clash of magic shook the ground beneath us, sending cracks like mirrors cracking across the field.
"How many more must die to uphold the lie?" I cried. "How many cities burned? Children you branded heretics simply because they were born different?" "How many worlds will be destroyed… if truth is not guided by divine law?" he replied. "If that is divine law," my voice trembled, "then your divinity is dead." The second explosion was much larger. I shed my robes and revealed Raelzar's true form—horns gleaming obsidian, eyes burning purple, and a body shrouded in ancient magical energy that moved like a thick mist. Seraphine took a step back. For the first time, doubt was visible in her eyes. I looked at her without hatred. "I am not a demon because I want to be. But because this world needs someone mad enough to fight the false light… with the darkness that knows the meaning of pain." And I leapt at him, not to kill, but to destroy a symbol of power misused—a sacred staff raised not to protect, but to judge.
Staff and sword clashed. Light and shadow danced. The sky was torn apart by two forces born of the same love for the world, but in opposite ways. In the distance, Lysette led the left wing to surround the Order's faltering forces. Kurin launched a small siege tower from the ground, firing explosive arrows. Demon priests summoned protective spirits, not destructive ones, healing the wounded soldiers of both sides. For this was not a war to destroy… but to stop the cycle of slaughter. Then, Seraphine's staff broke. And she fell to her knees on the ground, gasping for breath. I stood before her, my body burning with magic, my skin blistered by her holy light.
"You… could have killed me," she said weakly. "I did not come to kill you," I replied. "I came to break the chains." My hand reached out. Seraphine stared at it, hesitant… then slowly, took it. And over the battlefield, the mist began to clear. The sun broke through the clouds, not as a symbol of victory, but of a beginning. The end of a story full of lies… and the beginning of a world that might, for the first time, be honest about its wounds and its history.