The night still held its breath between us.
My fingers were wrapped around his, my heart steadying from the ache of memory, of Mary's guidance, of standing at the edge of the impossible.
But Kai's hand suddenly loosened in mine.
I looked up.
His gaze had shifted.
Not cold.
But distant.
Like someone already letting go.
"Anna," he said, barely above a whisper, "maybe… maybe this is where we stop."
The words didn't register at first. I blinked, unsure I'd heard him right.
"What?"
He stepped back, eyes full of something that broke me even before he finished.
"You don't see it, but I do. You're meant for something beyond this. Beyond war. Beyond me."
"I've watched you command armies. Speak to gods. Turn death into hope. And now the divine themselves want to bind you to their realm."
He looked away, jaw clenched.
"Who am I to hold you back from that?"
"You're Kai," I said, voice cracking. "You're the one who's always been there."
"Exactly." His eyes returned to mine—dark with something deeper than pain. "And maybe that's all I was ever meant to be. The one who helped you get to the place where you don't need me anymore."
"You think I don't need you?" I asked, stunned.
"I think you deserve someone who can give you more than I can. Someone who can protect you without bleeding beside you. Someone who doesn't fall behind while you're rewriting destiny."
"Like a god?" I snapped.
"If that's what it takes to keep you safe… yeah."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"You're not protecting me by walking away, Kai," I said, voice shaking. "You're running."
"Maybe I am," he said, stepping back one more pace. "But better that than watch you destroy yourself trying to hold onto someone who's already fading from your future."
"Don't do this," I whispered.
He swallowed hard. "I love you. That's why I have to do this."
Then, as if he couldn't bear to hear me respond, he turned—and walked away.
Just like that.
Leaving the moonlight. Leaving the garden.
Leaving me.
And I stood there—too stunned to cry, too angry to chase after him.
But inside me, something changed.
Not just heartbreak.
Resolve.
Because if love could survive gods, time, and war—it had to be chosen. Not just once, but again and again.
Even when the other person had forgotten how.
To Kai:
The wind was colder away from the temple.
Kai walked through the ruins of the garden path, past crumbling stone and overgrown vines, until he found the broken wall at the edge of the city where the stars could be seen without interruption.
He stopped there—alone.
The torches from the palace were distant now. The hum of rebuilding had faded into the night. And there, in the stillness, he finally let go of the breath he'd been holding since she looked at him like he was leaving her behind.
He leaned against the wall, running both hands through his hair.
"What the hell did I just do…"
His voice cracked at the end of the sentence. There was no one around to hear it.
No one to lie to.
He slid down the stone, back against the ancient moss-covered marble, until he was sitting in the dirt with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
"You idiot," he whispered to himself. "You told her you loved her and then walked away. Because what? You didn't think you were enough?"
He dug his fingers into his scalp, shutting his eyes tight.
"You've fought armies for her. Crossed timelines. You bled for her, burned for her… and now you think walking away is what love looks like?"
Silence answered him.
Not even the wind dared to comfort him.
He looked up at the stars—those same stars that had watched Anna glow with golden light, that had watched her stare down gods and speak with fire in her voice and mercy in her soul.
"She's stronger than me," he said aloud, as if trying to justify it to the sky.
"She's going to be a queen. Maybe a goddess. What am I? Just a broken sword that doesn't know where to land anymore."
His voice trembled as he said it.
Then, softer. Almost too quiet to hear:
"But gods... I still want her."
He pressed a hand to his chest where the matching pendant she gave him still rested beneath his armor. It was faintly warm. Still glowing. Still responding to her.
"Why can't I be enough?" he whispered.
There were no answers.
Only the ache of knowing he had walked away from the one thing in his life that ever made him feel whole—and convinced himself it was to protect her, when in truth…
It was to protect himself.
Kai still sat beneath the stars, head bowed, fingers curled tight around the pendant that pulsed softly against his chest.
He hadn't noticed the wind stop.
Hadn't heard the soft crunch of boots on earth.
Until a voice slid into the silence like silk over a blade.
"Heartbreak suits you, fireborn."
Kai's head snapped up.
Before him stood a man cloaked in robes of black and crimson, the fabric moving like smoke, like shadows with memory. His eyes were pale gold, glowing faintly, and his skin shimmered with a dark luster—like obsidian dusted with starlight.
He wasn't radiant like Elyra.
He wasn't gentle like Caelion.
No, this being radiated something colder. Older.
Power that didn't beg to be worshipped—it simply expected to be obeyed.
"Who the hell are you?" Kai asked, rising to his feet, the warmth of flame already kindling in his hands.
The stranger smiled, unbothered.
"I am Varos," he said smoothly. "Once a god of war. Now… something far more interesting."
He stepped forward, and with each footfall, the grass seemed to darken beneath him.
"I felt your pain from across the threads of time, Kai. The moment you broke your own heart to protect hers."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "If you're here to mock me, try again."
Varos chuckled. "No. I'm here because I understand you."
"You watched the woman you love glow in the presence of gods who would claim her like a trophy. And you thought, who am I to stand beside her?"
Kai's fists clenched. "Don't speak like you know me."
"But I do," Varos said, eyes sharp as a blade's edge. "Because I was you once. A warrior who loved someone brighter than the stars. And lost her to the heavens."
His voice dropped.
"Because I believed I was unworthy."
That silenced Kai for a beat.
"So what do you want?" he asked. "To recruit me? Offer power in exchange for vengeance?"
Varos tilted his head.
"I want to offer you truth. That the gods who demand Anna's hand do not value her soul—they value her power. Her legend. Her obedience."
"But you?" He stepped closer. "You love her defiance. Her humanity. That makes you dangerous to them."
Kai didn't flinch. "Then why are you helping me?"
Varos smiled, but this time, there was something darker in it. Not cruelty. But purpose.
"Because I believe gods should be challenged. And you, Kai, are a spark waiting to become an inferno."
He reached out—and in his hand formed a weapon: a blackened blade carved from the bones of dying stars. It pulsed faintly with heat and sorrow, resonating with Kai's own fire.
"Take it. Not to kill. But to awaken."
"You will need more than love to protect her, fireborn. You will need to rise into something the gods can no longer ignore."
Kai stared at the blade… and said nothing.
But the weight in his chest shifted.
Not with hope.
With resolve.
Because if they wanted Anna to become part of their realm...
Then he would rise, too.
Not as a god.
But as something no god was ready for.
Kai stared at the blade—its edge humming softly with heat, its obsidian-dark surface reflecting not the stars above, but shadows deeper than night. It felt like it pulsed with a heartbeat not his own.
Varos didn't rush him.
Instead, the god circled slowly behind him, speaking with quiet intensity—like a flame speaking to dry wood.
"That weapon is not forged to kill men," Varos said. "It is designed to wound what cannot bleed."
Kai turned his head slightly. "You mean gods."
Varos smiled.
"I mean order. Balance. The illusion that the heavens are unshakable."
He stepped beside Kai again, his golden eyes gleaming with a strange, quiet hunger.
"Elyra and her kind have ruled for too long. They speak of peace, but they mean obedience. They offer protection only to those who kneel."
"Anna, your Anna, has defied the old script. She leads with mercy, not fear. She inspires not just mortals… but fate itself. That is dangerous."
His gaze drifted to the stars above.
"They want to control that spark. By binding her to their son, they will wrap her light in chains of gold. A divine bride. A perfect pawn."
Varos turned back to Kai.
"But you, Kai—you are chaos they can't predict. And I… I want to see what happens when a fire like yours touches the halls of the gods."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "So you want me to be your weapon?"
Varos's smile turned thoughtful.
"No. I want you to be yours."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a murmur that curled like smoke around Kai's ears.
"Take the blade. Rise not as a king, or a lover, or a knight—but as a disruption. As the storm that shakes heaven from its pedestal."
"Because when the gods make war on choice, rebellion becomes holy."
Kai looked down at the blade again.
It no longer looked like a weapon.
It looked like a decision.
One that could burn everything he thought he was…
…or forge something new.
Kai stared down at the blade in his hands.
It was warm, yes—but not like fire. It didn't comfort. It provoked. It hummed like it wanted to be used, like it had waited centuries for a hand that burned with heartbreak and rage.
He wasn't sure if it felt right.
But it felt honest.
Inside, his thoughts were spinning. Faster and sharper than before.
She chose to face Elyra alone… again. She's always carrying the weight for everyone. And I—what have I done? Walked away to protect her, or because I'm too afraid I'll lose her in a way I can't control?
The gods wanted her to wed one of their own. To claim her power, her mercy, her light.
And maybe they were right.
Maybe she does deserve something more than a broken soldier who flinches at forever.
But still…
Still.
He couldn't let go.
Not really.
Not completely.
And so he turned to the god beside him—this enigmatic, dark-eyed being who had spoken with sympathy and danger in equal measure.
"You said you were like me," Kai muttered. "That you once loved someone who rose too high."
He looked up, eyes sharp now.
"What happened to her?"
For the first time, Varos went quiet.
His expression didn't falter—but a shadow passed through it. Not theatrical. Not manipulative.
Real.
"She was a goddess of hope," Varos said finally. "Of light born in the darkness after storms. She was beloved by the heavens… but she loved a god who questioned their rule."
His voice was quieter now. Like a story he never told aloud.
"They didn't kill her. No. They're too elegant for that. They simply... unmade her."
"Erased her name from stone. Her temples. Her memories. Even her stars."
Kai's stomach sank.
"So you lost her."
Varos nodded slowly. "No. They lost her. I remember. And I've spent eternity doing what she would have done—fighting for those no one remembers."
He looked back at Kai.
And for once, the fire in his eyes wasn't cruel—it was personal.
"That's why I came to you. Because you would burn the world for her, wouldn't you?"
Kai didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because he already knew the answer.
And so did Varos.
The god stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for the broken warrior before him.
"This blade won't make you a god, Kai. But it will give you the means to stand against them. Not with temples. Not with oaths. With truth. And fury. And love that doesn't ask permission."
"So tell me, fireborn—are you done watching the world take her from you?"
The blade pulsed again in Kai's hand.
And in that moment...
He made a choice.
The blade pulsed in Kai's hand, a heartbeat that didn't match his own—but was slowly syncing with it.
He looked down at it, then back at Varos.
The stars above seemed to listen.
The wind had gone still.
For the first time since he let Anna go, Kai's voice didn't tremble.
"No," he said.
He raised his eyes, steady and burning.
"I'm not done."
Varos smiled faintly, but said nothing.
Kai continued—his voice low, but sharpened like steel drawn across stone.
"I tried to do the noble thing. Let her go. Tell myself she deserved better. Tell myself she'd be safer with a god who could hold her world together."
His hand curled tighter around the hilt.
"But safety isn't love. And love doesn't walk away just because the gods say it should."
He stepped forward, holding the blade up.
"I'm not here to play their games anymore. I won't kneel to Elyra. I won't let them rewrite her story into some divine fairytale where she loses everything that makes her Anna."
His eyes flashed with fire.
"If I have to burn through the gates of the heavens to stand beside her, I will."
A pause. Then, with certainty:
"I'll fight for her. Not because she needs saving—but because she shouldn't have to fight alone."
Varos studied him in silence for a moment longer.
Then, slowly, he gave a single nod.
"Good," the god said. "Then the gods have something to fear again."
And in Kai's hand, the obsidian blade flared to life—its edges shimmering with flame, its runes igniting with golden-red light.
Not corrupted.
Not cursed.
Awakened.
And with it… so was he.
Back to Anna:
The temple bathed in silver light. Elyra stood at its heart—serene, beautiful, ancient. Caelion, her son, stood beside her like a statue carved from stars, watching in stillness.
As I approached, the seed of light—the Heart of Renewal—burned softly in my palm.
I felt the eyes of spirits. Of memory. Of the world watching.
And I heard Mary's voice again, faint and far away:
"Sometimes love is not what you keep. It's what you're willing to give away."
Elyria's voice rang out clear.
"You have come to choose, Flameborn. Do you accept my son's hand—and with it, peace, protection, and eternity for your kingdom?"
I looked to Caelion.
Then I looked at the horizon behind them, where Kai once stood, where I once stood, alone and full of fire.
And I breathed in.
"Yes."
A hush fell across the temple.
The spirits, the gods, even the wind seemed to pause.
I stepped forward, holding the glowing seed with both hands.
"I accept your son's hand. And with it, I accept the burden of protecting this world—not by sword or flame, but by unity."
"If this marriage will keep my people safe—if it will stop another war before it begins—then I'll carry it. Even if it costs me the life I once dreamed of."
My voice trembled only once.
"Even if it costs me love."
Caelion stepped forward, his expression unreadable—but there was something almost gentle behind his eyes.
He extended his hand.
And I placed mine in his.
Elyra smiled—not in triumph, but in quiet, knowing approval.
"Then it is done."
Light flared gently around us, and the temple sang with divine harmony.
But in my chest… I felt the ache of every word I didn't say.
Every goodbye I hadn't spoken.
Forgive me, Kai.
This wasn't surrender.
This was sacrifice.
This was strategy.
This was the price of peace.
And I would wear it like a crown.
The divine light began to gather around us, a soft celestial hum filling the temple as the blessing of the gods stirred in the air.
My hand was in Caelion's.
The goddess Elyra watched us with poised grace.
But just before the ritual could begin—before vows were spoken, before eternity was sealed—
Caelion spoke.
"Wait."
His voice was calm, deeper than I expected, with a tone that carried like starlight across still water. For the first time, the quiet son of Elyra stepped forward not as a shadow—but as a person.
Everyone turned to look at him—even Elyra.
He looked down at our joined hands… then raised his eyes to mine.
And he didn't smile.
But his gaze softened, threaded with clarity.
"Anna," he said, "I do not want you to marry me because you feel you must."
A hush fell across the temple.
"I have seen the burden you carry," he continued. "You fight for your people. You mourn the dead. You rage at the stars and still walk forward. And I honor that."
He glanced toward his mother, then back to me.
"But I am not my mother. I do not seek to possess you. I do not want to be another cage."
My breath caught.
"If you choose this path—if you truly wish to stand beside me—not as a sacrifice, but as a partner… then I will honor it with everything I am."
"But if your heart lies elsewhere… say so now. And I will not hold it against you."
Elyria's serene expression did not waver, but something flickered behind her eyes.
Caelion's voice dropped to something quieter—almost human.
"I would rather walk alone for eternity… than bind you to a vow born of grief and guilt."
His fingers loosened slightly around mine.
Giving me the choice again.
Freely.
Fully.
And for the first time… I saw him not as a god's son.
But as a man—lonely, wise, and deeply respectful of the woman I was.