The Northern winds carried a new song.
Not of war drums or clashing steel—but of quiet laughter, the sound of life returning to the land that once burned beneath divine fire.
Winter lingered, yet the cold felt gentler. For the first time in weeks, the snow around the Wolf Fang Citadel glittered not with ash, but with light.
And at the heart of it all walked Celestia, wrapped in a simple white cloak, her golden hair hidden beneath a wool hood.
Every step she took sank softly into the snow. Every breath she exhaled misted into the cold air, proof that she truly lived.
The people stared when she passed.
Whispers followed her through the streets — "Is that the one who fell from the sky?" "She's beautiful…" "But she's… human now, isn't she?"
Celestia met every gaze with a faint smile. Though awkward, she tried to return their greetings, her voice trembling from both cold and uncertainty.
At a baker's stall, she stopped. The smell of fresh bread overwhelmed her senses.
"It's… warm," she whispered.
The old baker chuckled, recognizing her awe. "First time smelling bread, miss?"
Celestia blushed faintly, unsure how to respond. "I've… never needed to eat before."
The man blinked, then laughed. "Well, you'll be needing it plenty now! First one's free, from a grateful man to the Duke's lady."
Her eyes widened. "I'm not—" she began, but the baker had already turned back to his work.
Still, she accepted the bread, the steam curling between her fingers. She took a small bite—and her eyes glistened.
"It's… sweet."
From a distance, Arden watched her silently, arms crossed. Lirian stood beside him, smirking faintly.
"She's adjusting faster than I expected," the elf noted.
Arden's lips curved into a subtle smile. "She's learning. That's what matters."
Later that evening, the two walked side by side through the snow-covered courtyard.
Celestia glanced up at the sky — once her realm, now a place forever lost to her. "Do you think they're watching us?" she asked quietly.
Arden's gaze didn't waver. "Heaven doesn't watch. It judges. But if they are, they'll learn something new about mortals tonight."
She tilted her head. "What's that?"
"We endure."
His words were simple, yet they echoed within her heart like a bell.
She looked down, fingers brushing against her cloak. "Endure… I never understood that word before."
Arden stopped, turning toward her. "You'll learn. Living isn't about power or eternity. It's about pain, struggle, and still choosing to rise again."
Celestia's eyes softened. "That sounds… lonely."
He smirked faintly. "It used to be."
Their eyes met. For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The world around them fell silent except for the sound of falling snow.
The next morning, Celestia visited the frozen lake beyond the citadel walls — the same place she had laughed for the first time.
This time, she wasn't alone.
Arden's younger sister, Lilia, and his brother, Caine, followed her curiously.
"Miss Celestia! Watch this!" Caine shouted, skidding across the ice with reckless enthusiasm.
Celestia gasped as he nearly fell, her instincts flaring. "Be careful!"
Lilia giggled. "He's always like that. You sound like a mother already."
Celestia blinked, her cheeks warming. "I… do?"
The children laughed, and she couldn't help smiling back.
For the first time, she didn't feel like a goddess pretending to be human. She felt—normal.
She even tried stepping onto the ice herself. Her first step was careful. The second—less so.
Slip—!
She yelped, flailing before landing flat on her back. The children burst out laughing.
When she sat up, rubbing her head, she found Arden standing at the edge of the lake, barely hiding his grin.
"Elegant as ever, Celestia."
Her glare was half-hearted. "You could have warned me."
"I could have," he said calmly, walking toward her, "but then I'd miss this view."
She blinked. "View?"
He extended a hand to help her up. "Of a goddess learning how to fall."
Her heart skipped. His hand was warm — grounding, real. For a moment, she didn't let go.
That night, after the laughter faded and the citadel lights dimmed, a chill spread through the northern wind — sharper, colder than before.
Deep beneath the ruined battlefield where the Supreme Voice had fallen, something pulsed.
A fragment of divine essence — cracked, yet alive — floated in the void of ice.
"…Defiance… must be purged…"
The fragment's light turned black, its form twisting into a shape far from divine. Wings of shadow unfurled as a voice echoed through the darkness.
"The Voice is gone. But I remain. The Balance must be restored."
Above, the Northern sky flickered — for just a moment, a single black feather drifted down upon the snow near the citadel walls.
No one noticed.
Except Celestia.
She sat by her window, staring at the moon. The feather landed on the sill, dissolving into mist.
Her golden eyes widened, and she whispered to herself, voice trembling.
"They're coming…"
Arden stood atop the citadel ramparts, the cold wind biting at his face. His instincts — the same ones honed from centuries of battle — whispered danger.
He didn't know why yet. But his heart, the same one that once defied Heaven, told him one thing for certain:
Peace never lasts long in a world watched by gods.