The sun had begun to rise.
Golden light spilled across Solmere, turning its high towers to molten gold and pouring over the marble courtyard in silent rivers. Morning should have brought peace, but a heavy stillness pressed against the city in the sky—a hush shaped by loss, not victory.
Indra landed hard on the celestial platform, boots scraping across polished stone. His arms trembled from the weight of Gabriella, her body limp against his chest. Her once radiant aura was now just a faint shimmer, barely visible beneath the new day's light. Every breath burned in his throat.
"We're finally back," he thought, but the words felt thin, distant, almost meaningless.
The massive golden doors of Solmere creaked open.
Taliyah stepped into the light, her robes gliding with her as she crossed the threshold. Serenity broke from her face the moment she saw Indra. He was bloodied, battered—barely upright. And in his arms, Gabriella lay motionless.
"Indra!" Taliyah's voice carried command and worry in equal measure. She hurried to them, hands glowing with gold as she pressed them over Gabriella's chest. A wash of healing energy flowed into Gabriella, warm and steady.
Taliyah frowned in concentration. "She's completely drained, but her life force is strong. She'll recover."
The relief that washed over Indra was immediate and visible. His shoulders slackened, just for a second.
Hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Iris appeared from the shadows, her silver hair loose, violet eyes wide and shining with worry. She rushed to them, dropping to her knees beside Gabriella.
"Gabriella! Is she—?" Her words caught, trembling.
Taliyah met Iris's eyes with calm. "She just needs time. She'll be all right."
Iris exhaled, the tension falling away. Her hands hovered over Gabriella, not quite daring to touch. Taliyah guided Gabriella onto a disc of light that hovered above the floor, gently lifting her and carrying her away in a slow trail of warmth.
Indra watched as the disc floated through the golden doors toward the infirmary, his gaze never leaving until Gabriella disappeared from sight.
He swayed, every muscle begging for rest, but he forced himself upright. Taliyah remained close, always watchful. Iris sat on the lowest step, arms around her knees, staring at the courtyard in silence.
The quiet that settled over them felt reverent—too deep for conversation.
Taliyah finally broke it, her voice a whisper. "You've done enough, Indra. You need to rest."
He let out a sound—a laugh, or maybe just a sigh. "Gabriella always says that, too."
A tired smile tugged at Taliyah's lips. "She's wise."
Iris spoke up, her voice soft but direct. "You're not invincible. Don't act like you are."
Indra nodded, his bravado fading. "I know. But I can't stop—not with everything that's happened."
Taliyah put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We all carry this burden. But you won't help anyone by pushing yourself past the edge. Rest is what lets us keep fighting."
He nodded again, glancing up at the golden spires and the endless sky. "I understand."
He took a shaky step toward the courtyard, but something pulled at his thoughts—the weight of memory, and something else. Indra turned, eyes lingering on the marble path that led toward the far end of Solmere, the old archive. The knowledge from the Azurelith still pulsed within him—a heat that hadn't faded since the temple.
He spoke, voice distant, as if answering both Taliyah and the memory of the voice that had guided him. "In the temple—after the battle—I found something." He swallowed, meeting Taliyah's gaze. "A tablet. I think it's an Azurelith. It… answered questions I didn't know how to ask."
Taliyah's eyes widened in quiet recognition, but she said nothing, waiting for him to finish.
Indra continued, his voice growing steadier as he spoke. "It gave me knowledge, not just power. There's so much I need to understand. But right now, Gabriella needs help. The others too. That has to come first."
Taliyah nodded, understanding the burden he'd brought back. "There's time for answers. But not at the cost of yourself."
Indra's body finally gave out. He staggered, and Iris rushed to help him, easing him onto one of the broad benches that lined the courtyard. Taliyah summoned another platform of light, this one for him, and it hovered at his side.
He let himself sink into its warmth, eyes drifting closed. "Two of the Valkyries were with us," he murmured. "Can you send someone to look for them? I don't know if they made it out."
"I will," Taliyah promised, her voice unwavering.
Indra offered her a tired smile, gratitude flickering across his face. "Thank you."
He barely felt his body being lifted as the platform began to float, carrying him behind the golden doors and into the safety of Solmere's heart. The sunlight filtered through his lashes as sleep dragged him under, but his thoughts still raced.
Somewhere between waking and dream, a voice echoed—his own, or perhaps the one that had guided him in the temple.
We survived.
But this wasn't a victory.
Too many suffered.
Next time… I won't let this happen again.
Far away…
Beyond the light of the heavens, deep in the belly of a dead forest, darkness moved.
In the rotting bones of a ruined cathedral, cloaked cultists knelt in a circle before a crumbling statue. It loomed over them, cracked and grotesque—Killian carved in stone, his hollow gaze watching the faithful.
Shadows twitched. The air buzzed with a wrongness.
Then—without a sound—something dropped from the rafters.
A sudden gust swept the room as Killian landed.
He rose slowly, his cloak unfurling like smoke around a frame clad in elegant black armor. Raven-dark wings arched behind him, each feather edged in blood-red. His face was flawless—and lifeless. His eyes glowed a dull crimson.
The cultists bowed so low, their skulls kissed stone.
"M-My Lord…" the leader croaked. "You've returned… Does this mean… it's time to act?"
Killian said nothing.
Then a slow smile curled across his face.
"Absolutely," he murmured.
He stepped forward. The ground shivered beneath his boots.
"My dear servants… prepare your churches."
He paused.
"…prepare your priests."
The words lingered—soft, venomous.
He turned toward the statue, his eyes narrowing.
"It's time," he said again, more to himself than anyone else.
A flicker of cruel delight sparked behind his gaze.
"…to have some fun."
And somewhere far below the heavens, evil began to breathe.