The silence was deafening.
Nyxara stood by the door, framed by the flickering torchlight, eyes distant but sharp. She could feel Alden getting closer—each step of his approach like a stone tossed into the well of her senses.
Time was running out.
Behind her, Solene looked at the faces that had become her world.
Nerys, bruised and blood-warm, her hand never far from her sword.
Seraphyne, trying to stay calm, but barely holding herself together under the weight of unspoken feelings and rage.
Lira, who had never signed up for any of this, and yet had chosen to stay.
Solene spoke first.
"We run," she said softly. "We live. And we come back when we decide."
Nerys was already nodding. "We'll make him pay. But not on his terms."
Seraphyne clenched her jaw. "I hate it."
Solene turned to her. "I know."
"I want to kill him now."
"I know."
Seraphyne looked at her. Eyes locked.
Then she nodded. Once. "Let's go."
Lira swallowed hard. "I don't know what's up there," she said, voice shaking, "but if it keeps us out of his reach, I'm in."
Nyxara smiled, fangs just barely peeking past her lips.
"Good."
Then the ground trembled.
Alden.
He was close.
Nyxara reached out with one hand, palm open.
"Stay close. Don't let go."
Solene stepped in first. Took her hand.
Then Nerys.
Then Seraphyne.
Then Lira, clutching Seraphyne's arm like a lifeline.
Nyxara's eyes burned bright.
Snap.
The room vanished in a swirl of wind, frost, and light.
---
Tartarus fell away below.
Stone turned to sky.
Air turned to starlight.
They rose like fireflies into the heavens, pulled into the clouds above the city where no one ruled and no laws reached. The world blurred into nothing.
And when it cleared—
They stood in a garden of icelilies.
Nyxara's sanctuary.
Safe. Silent.
Above everything.
And finally—
Free.
The wind here was different.
It didn't bite.
It kissed.
Cool, clean, soft as silk—and beneath their feet, not stone or earth, but clouds. Vast and pale, shimmering with faint opalescence, supporting their weight like enchanted ground.
Above them rose a castle unlike anything the world below had ever built.
Tall spires twisted like frost-formed towers, white marble streaked with pale blue veins. Bridges of solid light arched between towers, and enormous banners—silver with no crest—floated as if caught in a breeze that came from nowhere.
And all around the floating castle, icelilies bloomed, thousands of them, across fields of crystal grass that didn't bend, didn't wilt, only shone.
They stood there for several minutes.
No one spoke.
Even Seraphyne looked stunned.
Solene was the first to move, her boots brushing over the soft grass as she stepped forward. "It's… beautiful."
"Welcome," Nyxara said behind them, her voice softer now. "To Skyreach. My sanctuary above the world."
Lira blinked, her voice tiny. "How… is this even real?"
Nyxara smiled. "It's real because I made it. Before this world forgot me. Before it chose kings and queens over dragons."
She stepped past them and gestured for them to follow.
The gates opened without a touch.
Inside, the castle was warm—not by fire, but by energy. Everything glowed faintly, alive with old magic. The halls stretched wide and open, with smooth stone, hanging crystals, and glowing orbs suspended like stars.
There were rooms. Baths. Beds. Libraries carved into walls of glowing stone. A training arena suspended over a field of mist. Everything they would need to heal, to rest, to prepare.
Nyxara turned back to them.
"You're safe here," she said. "Truly. Nothing will find you unless I allow it."
They still looked stunned. Wary. Like they might wake up at any moment.
So she added, "You'll sleep. You'll eat. You'll train. And when you're ready—you'll burn Tartarus down and write your own ending."
Solene looked to Nerys.
To Seraphyne.
To Lira.
And for the first time in her life—
She wasn't just surviving.
She was becoming something more.
—Interlude—
Alden—
The door exploded inward with a thunderous crack, wood splintering under the full force of Alden's enchanted boot.
He stepped through the ruin, sword already drawn, eyes alight with fury and anticipation.
"Let's end the game," he hissed. "Where are you—"
And then he stopped.
There was no one.
No frost.
No bodies.
Just a single thing hovering in the center of the room.
A glowing middle finger, made entirely of sculpted ice, hovering in the air with perfect stillness—elegantly posed, slowly rotating on an invisible axis.
A pulse of magic shimmered through it, and a faint glimmer of light formed into delicate handwriting along its base:
"Nice try. Too slow."
Alden stared.
His eye twitched.
Then—
The hand winked out of existence in a puff of sparkling frost.
Alden stood in the silence, staring at the now-empty hideout.
The blade in his hand trembled.
Then he let out a scream—half rage, half disbelief—and slashed the nearest support beam in two, sending the already-damaged roof groaning and collapsing in a burst of ash and dust.
The Bladelings outside didn't dare speak.
Alden breathed hard, eyes wild.
Then, voice low and furious: "She's toying with me."
He turned to his men.
"Fine," he growled. "She wants to play?"
He smiled.
"Then let's make it personal."
...
...
—Part II—
Solene—
The rooms were impossibly luxurious.
Not decadent—just right. Each space in Skyreach felt like it was shaped for whoever walked into it. As if the stone itself had listened to their soul and arranged itself accordingly.
Solene's room smelled faintly of snow and fresh pine. Pale blue sheets. Frost-colored light drifting through a skylight of curved glass. She stood in the center, stunned, when she heard a knock behind her.
She turned—
Seraphyne stood in the doorway.
Her cloak was gone. Her armor undone. Hair pulled back loosely, strands falling around her face. She looked...
Conflicted.
Like someone who had been holding something for far too long.
"Can I come in?" she asked softly.
Solene nodded. "Always."
Seraphyne stepped inside, closed the door gently.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Seraphyne reached forward, hesitated—
And pulled Solene into her arms.
Solene didn't resist.
Their bodies fit together like memory—warm, imperfect, right.
"I almost lost you," Seraphyne whispered into her shoulder.
Solene closed her eyes. "But you didn't."
Seraphyne pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes.
Then leaned in.
Her lips brushed Solene's—light, unsure.
Testing.
A question, not a command.
Solene answered by tilting her head, pressing into it. Soft. Sure.
When they parted, Seraphyne was flushed, her breath caught.
And then, in a voice barely above a whisper:
"I love you."
Solene's heart stuttered.
But she didn't speak.
Instead, she kissed her again—longer, deeper, full of everything she couldn't say yet.
When they finally pulled apart, Seraphyne rested her forehead against Solene's, smiling faintly.
"I just needed you to know." mumbled Seraphyne.
They stayed like that a while before Seraphyne looked down after the kiss, cheeks flushed, breath uneven. She gave a half-laugh, half-sigh, brushing a strand of hair from her face as if the weight of what she'd just said might crush her if she lingered in it too long.
"I should let you rest," she murmured. "I didn't mean to—"
She turned to leave.
But Solene moved fast.
Her hand caught Seraphyne's arm, not roughly—just firm. Intentional.
Seraphyne froze.
Then—gently, but with unmistakable strength—Solene pulled her back and pinned her against the doorframe. One arm braced beside her head. The other trailing up to tilt Seraphyne's chin just slightly.
Their eyes met.
Seraphyne's blush deepened, her breath catching. "S-Solene—?"
"I love you too, Sera," Solene whispered, voice low and electric, warm enough to melt glaciers.
Then she kissed her.
Not soft.
Ravenous.
Their lips met with urgency, teeth and breath and heat between them as everything unspoken spilled into the space. Seraphyne's arms wrapped around Solene's waist, pulling her closer, bodies pressed together as if they couldn't stand another inch apart. Solene's hand tangled in her hair. Seraphyne let out a shaky moan between kisses, her entire body trembling, overwhelmed and desperate and so damn alive.
There was nothing careful about it.
It wasn't neat or delicate.
It was real.
When they finally broke apart—foreheads pressed together, eyes dazed, mouths swollen from too much, never enough—Seraphyne laughed again, softer this time.
"Gods, I've waited so long to hear you say that."
Solene grinned.
"You'll be hearing it a lot more."
They didn't move for a while.
Just held each other in the doorway of a skyborn sanctuary, with nothing chasing them and everything waiting to be built from this moment forward.
They stayed in that doorway for a long moment, breathing in sync, hearts pressed so close they couldn't tell whose beat was whose.
Seraphyne's hands had settled at Solene's waist, thumbs tracing slow, uncertain circles—like she still wasn't sure this was real.
Solene leaned in again, slower this time. Her lips brushed Seraphyne's neck, soft and warm, the faintest graze that sent a shiver down Seraphyne's spine.
Then Solene murmured, her voice muffled against skin, quiet but sure:
"Stay with me tonight…"
Seraphyne blinked, her breath hitching again.
Solene pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"We don't have to do anything," she said, more gently now. "If you're not ready. I just… I want to fall asleep next to you. I want to wake up and feel like this wasn't a dream."
Seraphyne stared at her, lips parted.
Then she reached up and tucked a loose strand of Solene's hair behind her ear.
"I'm ready," she whispered. "Just for that."
Solene smiled. Something slow. Soft. Real.
"Okay."
She took Seraphyne's hand and led her into the room, their fingers laced, shoulders brushing. The door closed behind them with a quiet click.
No more running.
No more chasing shadows.
Just two women curling beneath frost-lined blankets in a skyborn castle far above the world.
And for the first time in what felt like forever—
They were allowed to sleep in peace.
---