Chapter 83

Ash clung to the horizon like a mourning veil, drifting over Dawnspire’s ruined walls. Serenya Vale stood at the shattered balcony of the old citadel, her fingers trembling against the cool stone. Below, soldiers gathered their dead, torches flickering against the broken banners that once promised peace. She could hear the sobs of widows, the groan of the wounded, the hollow silence of a kingdom choking on grief.

Yet none of it weighed heavier than the silence between her and Kaelen Draven.

He was there—standing just a few steps away, armor scorched, hair damp with sweat and blood. His shadow stretched long across the stone, as if the dusk itself bent to his command. His eyes found hers, but he did not move closer.

“Say something,” Serenya whispered, her voice cracking. “Say it isn’t what I think.”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened. He had always been a man of guarded words, his secrets folded tight like a blade hidden beneath silk. But tonight—tonight she saw the truth in his silence.

“You knew,” she said, louder now, desperation twisting her tone. “All this time—you knew what Orren meant, what the prophecy held. You knew you couldn’t stay.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as though every word pierced deeper than steel. When he opened them again, his voice was low. “If I could, Serenya, I would defy every star in the sky. I would chain myself to your side. But the Unseen Hand moves. And I… I am bound to stop it.”

Her heart clenched. “Bound by who? By fate? By some prophecy written by men too afraid of love to let it live? You don’t belong to destiny, Kaelen—you belong to me.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and trembling.

He took a step closer, his hand rising before falling again as if afraid to touch her. “Do you remember, Serenya, the night of the Forbidden Dance?” His voice softened. “The lanterns, the music… the way you looked at me, though you wore another’s mask. That was the night I knew—knew I would never love another.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Then why say farewell?”

“Because love, Serenya… love is the one weapon I cannot wield. Not against what comes. If I stay, it will destroy you. And I would rather break my own heart than let yours burn.”

She turned away, clutching the railing until her knuckles whitened. Below, the world continued in grief and chaos, yet her universe narrowed to this single choice—lose him or lose herself.

“Do you think leaving will save me?” she asked bitterly. “When you go, you tear the last piece of me away. What am I to a kingdom without you?”

His voice cracked now, though he tried to hide it. “You are more than me. More than us. You are the crown they need, the fire they must follow. Serenya Vale, daughter of twilight and dawn—you are the promise of this broken world.”

She spun back, fury and sorrow colliding. “And you? What promise do you hold, Kaelen Draven? That you’ll vanish into shadow and never return? That I’ll stand on this balcony every dusk, waiting for a man who chose duty over love?”

At that, he finally crossed the distance, grasping her hands with a desperation that betrayed his every word. His palms were rough, his grip fierce, as though by holding her he might etch the memory deep enough to carry into death.

“I promise you this,” he breathed, his forehead pressing to hers. “If there is breath in me, if there is light in any star, I will find my way back. Even if the heavens themselves bar me, I will return. But tonight… I must walk into shadow.”

Serenya’s tears fell freely now, dripping between their joined hands. “Don’t make me choose between kingdom and heart,” she begged. “Don’t ask me to be strong when the only strength I ever had was you.”

He kissed her then—soft, lingering, carved from despair and devotion. It was not the kiss of beginnings, but of endings. A farewell written in the language of trembling lips and unshed tears. When he pulled back, his breath was unsteady, his eyes dark as the coming storm.

“I will not ask you to forget me,” he said. “Only to believe in me, even when the world says I am gone.”

Her body shook, but she forced the words out, broken and fierce. “Then go. But remember, Kaelen Draven—when you fight the darkness, you carry my heart into battle. And if you fall, it falls with you.”

For a moment, he could not move. His shadow wavered like a man split between duty and love. Then, with one final look—aching, eternal—he released her hands and stepped back.

The night swallowed him.

Serenya stood motionless, listening to the echo of his footsteps fade into silence. The torches below sputtered against the wind, and the broken banners whispered like mourning veils. She pressed her hand to her lips, tasting the memory of his kiss, and whispered into the empty air:

“Come back to me.”

But only the night answered.