The council chamber doors shut behind them with the sound of stone grinding against stone—final and damning.
Seris stood tall despite the invisible chains of judgment wrapped around her. Kael walked beside her, every step echoing the promise they had made in silence: face it together. Eyes watched them from all corners—mages, generals, spies dressed as servants—all drawn to the two warriors who had rewritten the laws of power with fire and memory.
High Chancellor Rhemar's voice was the first to break the silence.
"You're aware that the magic you unleashed was outlawed over seven centuries ago," he began, fingers laced tightly before him. "By doing so, you've destabilized the elemental flow of three provinces, awakened sleeping enchantments, and—most grievously—survived something no one was meant to survive."
Kael smirked. "Forgive us for not dying on command."
A murmur passed through the chamber. Seris did not smile.
"We acted because no one else could," she said. "The creature we destroyed would have consumed half the realm if we had waited for the council's permission."
Archmage Teylan studied her with sharp eyes. "You said it was a void-born. Are you certain?"
"I don't just know it," Seris replied. "I've seen it before—in my past life."
That silenced the room.
Rhemar leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "You speak as though the myths were true. The Flame-Bearer. The Soul-Weaver. Heroes who defied fate itself."
"They were more than myths," Seris said, voice steady. "They were us."
Kael stepped forward. "And now they're returning."
Before the council could descend into chaos, a shadow moved across the floating map in the center of the chamber. The magic flickered—then surged with crimson light. A new sigil appeared across the Northern border.
Lady Veira gasped. "That's near the Ruined Steps… a forbidden zone."
"No one lives there anymore," General Ulric growled. "Nothing but dust and ash."
"Then tell me," Teylan whispered, "why is something waking up there now?"
---
Later That Night
Seris stared at the sky from her balcony, the stars blurry with fatigue and buried dread. She had been given a room in the high tower of the Citadel, but despite the silks and marble, it felt like a prison cell. Her memories from her past life still haunted her sleep—flashes of cities burning, of betrayal in the final hour, of Kael dying in her arms before their rebirth.
A soft knock broke her reverie.
Kael entered, shirtless and bruised but smirking nonetheless. "You're avoiding the victory feast."
"They're celebrating while the world shakes beneath us."
He walked closer, a quiet confidence in his stride. "Then let it shake. We've already proven we won't break."
She gave him a tired look. "You sound like you believe in us."
"I always have." He touched her wrist gently. "Even before I knew who you were… I knew I'd fight for you."
Her breath caught, just slightly. "I'm scared, Kael."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "So am I. But I'm also certain. Of us. Of this bond—old and new."
Their lips met, tender but desperate, like two souls trying to anchor themselves to the only truth they had left. When they finally pulled apart, Seris whispered, "The darkness is returning. It'll come for us again."
"Then let it," Kael said, his voice fierce and full of fire. "We're not the same warriors we once were. This time, we fight knowing who we are—and why."
---
Far Away, in the North
The air was thin where the world cracked.
The Ruined Steps, once a kingdom of scholars and spellwrights, had long been buried in sand and memory. But now, beneath the shattered pillars, something pulsed.
A cloaked figure stepped into the ruins. They bore no sigil, no name, only a mark burned into their hand—three eyes bound by chains.
They knelt before a crumbling altar and whispered in a dead language. In response, black light seeped from the earth, winding upward like smoke from the abyss. A low, inhuman voice rumbled in return.
"The Flame-Bearer has awoken."
The figure grinned beneath their hood. "And so has the Reaping."
From the darkness, eyes opened—thousands of them. Not beasts, not men—something in between, summoned from realms forgotten by time.
---
Back at the Citadel
The council reconvened in secret.
"I don't trust them," Rhemar hissed. "Seris and Kael… they wield power older than the realm itself. That kind of power breeds rebellion."
"They saved us," Teylan countered.
"Or started something worse."
But before either could continue, the chamber trembled. A scout burst in, panting. "A signal from the Northern Watch! Shadows moving across the Ruined Steps—unnatural formations—thousands strong!"
The council fell silent.
Seris, already in the chamber's shadow, stepped forward. "Then it's begun."
She turned to Kael. "Are you ready?"
He tightened his gauntlet. "Always."
Together, they walked into the storm, not as heroes yet—but as the last line between the realm and the night.
---