Silence.
No screams.No steel.No fire.Only the whisper of ash drifting over the dead.
Hiraeth's eyes opened slowly — not because he wanted to, but because pain dragged him back to the world of the living like a cruel hook.
His first breath tasted of smoke and rust.His second was wet with blood.
He lay on his back among lifeless bodies — Aurelios armor and Sangreal metal fused together by fire. The once golden plains were nothing but black, scorched earth. A broken spear still burned beside him.
"…I'm alive?"
The words cracked out of his dry throat.
He didn't recognize his own voice.
He tried to sit up.A stab of pain screamed from his legs — sharp, electric, unbearable. He dropped back to the ground, gasping.
He looked down.
His legs were burned black from the explosion of his own essence. His veins, once glowing gold when using Lumina, were now dull, twisted, and cracked like broken glass. The skin beneath was swollen, blistered, and sickly pale.
His essence channels — the circuits of life-energy inside every Aurelios warrior — were dead.
"Not… crippled," he whispered. "Worse."
A breeze brushed against his face, carrying the smell of charred metal and burnt flesh. He felt the weight of the world pressing on him — but one thought surged forward:
The child.
His heart hammered painfully. He remembered the golden flames, the screaming soldiers, the tiny cry in his arms.
He forced his body up, using only his arms. His fingers dug into mud and ash. Every movement dragged fire through his nerves.
"Where… where is the child?"
He dragged himself across the corpse field.One hand forward.Pull.Breathe.Pain.
The world blurred. His ears rang. His vision shook. His blood left a trail behind him.
Then—
A glint of gold caught his eye.
He found the place where he had stood his ground. Burn marks carved a circular crater into the earth — the remnants of his essence barrier.
No child.
No body.
Only a single torn swaddle cloth, pale white with a gold thread.
He pressed it to his chest and exhaled shakily.
"…He's alive."
The realization felt like a knife and a blessing at the same time.
The boy lived.But Hiraeth… should not have.
He dragged himself further until he reached a mound of bodies — Aurelios and Sangreal soldiers alike. Their faces were frozen in fear, awe, and pain.
His golden flames had killed many.
He clenched his teeth.
"Forgive me…"
The sky rumbled. Distant shouts echoed. Sangreal troops were returning to finish the clean-up. He couldn't be found. If they knew he survived, they would search for the child harder than ever.
He used his ruined legs to push himself behind a cluster of corpses, forcing his body beneath broken shields and bodies. The smell was unbearable, but he endured.
He couldn't fight.He couldn't run.He couldn't even stand.But he could hide.
He pulled a cloak from a dead soldier and covered himself. His breaths were shallow.
He waited.
He listened.
Heavy Sangreal boots approached.
"Hurry up! Drag the bodies to the pit!"
"General Varic wants every corpse checked."
Hiraeth froze.
Varic.
Even now, his shadow reached across the battlefield.
If Varic found him alive, it would mean the prince's death.
The footsteps came closer.
A soldier stepped on the shield above Hiraeth's head.Metal pressed into his skull.He bit down on his tongue to avoid screaming.
"Nothing here. Move."
Footsteps faded.Voices drifted away.
Hiraeth let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
He looked at the torn swaddle in his shaking hand.
"I kept my promise," he whispered to the empty sky."Live… little one. Live the life I lost."
He didn't know where he would go.He didn't know how long he could survive.But he knew one thing:
Hiraeth Solenne, the Ghost of Aurelios, was dead.
Only a nameless cripple remained.
He closed his eyes, letting exhaustion take him as the sun fell behind the smoke-filled horizon.
This was the beginning of the end.
And the beginning of everything else.