Then Ishalune whispered, more to herself than anyone else, her voice thinning into the air, "So they never intended to let us go… even from the beginning."
The words did not echo. They sank.
No one answered.
Silence pressed down over the clearing, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the faint hiss of wind dragging across stone and the distant crackle of dying embers. The smell of ash lingered—bitter, clinging to the back of the throat. No one moved at first. Even breathing felt like an intrusion.
Time stretched.
Eventually, the stillness fractured. Alden exhaled sharply through his nose and gestured to Felix and Rai. "We shouldn't stay blind here."
They nodded and drifted outward, boots crunching softly over gravel and brittle roots, their figures thinning into the trees as they began to scout the surrounding area.
Behind them, life resumed in quieter ways. Samantha knelt near a low firepit, coaxing reluctant flames back to life with careful breaths. Aira passed her dried wood, Lyra sat close by, staring absently at her own hands, while Selena and Sophia worked in silence, their movements practised but subdued. The faint scent of cooking herbs began to rise, fragile against the heaviness in the air.
Lady Ishalune remained still for a long time before finally lowering herself onto a flat stone. The others gathered near her—not crowding, but close enough that their presence could be felt. No one urged her to speak.
When she finally began telling her story, her voice was soft, steady in a way that felt almost unnatural.
By the time evening crept in, the sky had begun to bleed gold into amber. Long shadows stretched across the ground, swaying like silent watchers.
Footsteps approached.
Ronan, Kael, Sylphie, Darius, and Leon emerged from the treeline, their silhouettes cutting through the fading light. The golden fall glow across Ronan's face as his gaze swept over the camp—and then stopped.
On Ishalune.
His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I can't read her Tier."
The realisation slid under his skin like cold metal. No fluctuation. No pressure. Nothing he could grasp.
"She's the strongest one here."
A faint tension coiled along his spine as he stepped forward.
"Where are the others?" he asked, his tone even.
Mr Alaric adjusted his stance slightly, glancing toward the forest. "They're checking the area."
Selena, standing a little apart, watched Ronan with a faint crease in her brow. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve. "How is he unaffected by those visions…?" she murmured under her breath.
Ronan's gaze flicked toward her instantly.
Selena stiffened and turned away too quickly, pretending to focus on the fire.
But Ronan had already looked past her.
His expression softened—just slightly—as his attention landed on Samantha. A quiet smile tugged at his lips, subtle enough that it almost seemed imagined.
Before the moment could settle—
"IDIOT BOSS!"
The shout shattered the calm.
Rai burst back into the clearing at full speed, arms flailing, nearly tripping over his own feet as he skidded to a stop in front of Ronan. He jabbed a dramatic finger toward Lyra.
"She absorbed the flame!"
Ronan blinked once. "The maroon flames?"
"Yes!" Rai's voice cracked, halfway between outrage and despair. "The maroon flames!"
Ronan exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "Why are you crying?"
"I wanted that flame!" Rai wailed, clutching his chest as if something had been ripped from him.
A faint ripple of awkward silence followed.
Ronan looked at him for a long second, then deadpanned, "We're not strong enough to control it anyway. And we don't even know what it was." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Also—stop acting like that, using my face. It's embarrassing."
Rai froze.
"…Oh."
"Go back."
Ronan flicked his fingers in a short, precise motion.
A small puff of mist swallowed Rai whole—soft, almost harmless-looking—and then he was gone.
The clearing stilled again.
Then—
Ronan's expression changed.
His pupils constricted, shoulders tensing as something snapped into place behind his eyes. The returning flood of memory hit all at once—fragmented sensations stitching together into clarity.
His gaze turned sharply toward Lyra.
She stood there, her hand clenched into a tight fist, knuckles pale, the faintest tremor running through her arm.
The air tightened.
Before anything could ignite, Mr. Alaric stepped forward, his voice cutting cleanly through the tension. "Let's not stand here like strangers."
One by one, introductions followed—names, brief acknowledgements, measured glances exchanged across invisible lines.
When it was her turn, Ishalune studied Ronan in silence.
Her gaze lingered—not on his face, but deeper, as if peeling through layers unseen.
"A single-element user. Low Aether capacity…"
Her eyes narrowed just slightly.
"That explains the Phantom Clone—minimal cost. But this control…Interesting."
"I am Ishalune," she said at last.
Her voice was gentle, but distant—like something that had already begun to withdraw from the world.
Ronan nodded once. "I think we have something to show you."
Kael stepped forward, retrieving the crystal orb.
The moment it left his hand—
A voice emerged.
Soft.
Worn.
"Hi, Ishalune. If you're hearing this… we're probably gone."
Everything stopped.
Ishalune's breath hitched—barely audible. Her fingers lifted instinctively toward the orb, trembling midair as if reaching across time itself.
They fell before they could touch.
"I'm glad you're free now," the voice continued, quiet but steady. "Whether you saw me as a lover… it doesn't matter anymore."
Her knees gave out.
She collapsed without resistance, the impact muted against the ground as if even the earth held its breath.
"I don't regret anything… except bringing this child into the world."
Her shoulders began to shake.
Samantha and Sophia rushed to her side, catching her before she could fold in on herself completely, their hands steady even as their eyes softened.
"I thought we could protect him, but…"
The voice broke—just for a moment.
"I told them to burn our crops in the sunlight. The cellar was too dark… even for me." A weak, hollow laugh slipped through. "A Beast… still afraid of the dark."
Ishalune's fingers curled into the fabric of Samantha's sleeve, gripping hard, as if anchoring herself to something real.
"I don't hate you, Ishalune. We are the reason you were trapped."
Her breath came in shallow, uneven pulls.
"Thank you… for taking care of us. All this time."
A pause.
"I love you."
The words landed like something fragile breaking.
"If there's another life… maybe we'll meet again."
Silence.
Then—
"If this message is playing, it means you completed my last two wishes. So I'll give you what I promised… my final drop of blood."
The orb pulsed faintly.
"Spill a drop of your own onto it. It will reveal the blood."
A quieter note entered his voice.
"Don't follow the path of revenge, Ishalune. We're gone. You can live freely now—without restraint. There are kind souls out there… like someone who freed us."
The faintest warmth lingered in his tone.
"Explore the world. Live, Ishalune."
The light faded.
The voice vanished.
No one moved.
The air felt hollow.
Then—
The orb shifted.
Something within it condensed—dark, dense, alive.
A drop of Beast's blood.
And in that same instant—
Greed surfaced.
Oliver stepped forward.
Not rushed. Not hesitant.
Deliberate.
His eyes locked onto the orb as his hand extended.
Before his fingers could touch it—
The orb snapped back.
Ronan's hand closed around it.
Oliver's expression hardened. "That's not yours to take."
Ronan's grip tightened, his gaze cold. "Neither yours."
A flicker of irritation crossed Oliver's face. "Did you not hear the message? It's a reward."
Ronan's eyes sharpened. "Don't you have a shard of humanity?"
Oliver stepped closer, each footfall pressing Aether into the ground, the air around him growing heavier. "It was dead. It was a beast from the beginning . Why talk about humanity? This world runs on the strong devouring the weak."
Ronan didn't look away.
"But you're human."
The words landed quietly.
Then he turned.
"Ishalune."
Her name cut through the moment—sharp, unyielding.
Sophia stepped in immediately, placing herself between them. "Enough, Ronan. She's not in any condition to decide."
Ronan inhaled slowly.
Held it.
Then—
A pale, icy flame ignited in his palm.
It spread like frost catching fire, coiling around his arm, wrapping across his shoulders in a shifting, unnatural shroud. The air temperature dropped sharply, breath turning faintly visible in the golden dusk.
Even the light seemed to dim around it.
Without another word—
He threw the orb.
Alaric caught it instinctively, his hand snapping shut around it.
"What did you do?!" Oliver snapped.
Ronan didn't look at him. "Nothing. Check it if you want."
Oliver's gaze shifted to Alaric.
For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them.
Then—
The orb vanished into Alaric's storage ring.
Final.
Darius exhaled sharply, fists clenched at his sides. "You went too far, Oliver. If we had power right now… we'd have destroyed it already."
The tension lingered, but the moment had passed.
Ronan turned away.
"I'll be on the rooftop," he said, his voice quieter now. "Call me when you're ready to move."
He didn't wait for a response.
Selena watched him go, unease threading through her chest. Her fingers brushed unconsciously against her arm.
"That flame…" she murmured. "It looked like ice… but it felt like dread."
Samantha's gaze followed Ronan's retreating figure until he disappeared into the shadows.
"I don't know if it was the best way," she said softly, more to herself than anyone else. "But he did what he thought was right."
A faint pause.
"You're still kind, Ronan."
Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper.
"And I'm proud."
The rooftop was cold.
Wind dragged across broken stone, carrying the fading warmth of the day away with it.
Ronan staggered the moment he was out of sight.
A sharp cough tore through him—
Blood spilt past his lips, dark against his hand.
His fingers dug into his chest, nails biting through fabric as if trying to hold something inside that refused to stay contained.
His breath hitched—ragged, uneven.
"Every time…"
The Ghost Flame flickered faintly along his arm, unstable now, erratic.
"It doesn't burn the body…"
His vision blurred.
" But it tears through the mind."
A spike of pain drove straight through his skull.
Ronan dropped to one knee, then collapsed fully onto the stone, one hand clutching his head as if trying to keep it from splitting apart. His teeth clenched hard enough to ache.
The world twisted.
Sound dulled.
The last light of dusk smeared into darkness as he lay there, trembling, fighting to stay conscious—
Alone.