Chapter Seventy-Eight:

  “Embers and Frost”

  The portal tore open burning through existence itself, spilling Sterling onto the cold stone of his throne room. He stumbled, boots scraping against the bloodstained floor, but he refused to fall. Flames still clung to his blackened armor, writhing in defiance before finally sputtering out, leaving only the stench of charred flesh and molten metal. Smoke curled from his ruined form as he straightened, slow and agonized, his breath a ragged growl.

  Hex arrived a moment later, stepping soundlessly from her own vortex. She hesitated only for a fraction of a second, long enough to take in the sight of him, still smoldering, barely standing. She had seen him wounded before, but never like this. Never this raw.

  Before she could speak, his voice cracked, sharp and commanding.

  “Don’t just stand there you useless idiot, heal me.”

  It was an order, coated with a venom she had never heard from him before. Her father had always commanded with power, with certainty, with cold authority.But this? This was anger. Raw, unchecked. Laced with pain. With humiliation.

  Hex moved forward, her hand already glowing with the dark energy of her healing magic. "Right away, Father," she said, her voice even, obedient.

  Yet as she knelt beside him, pressing her magic into his burnt form, something within her awoke. The anger in his voice, the frustration in his movements, it didn’t make her fear him. It didn’t make her more devoted.

  It made her respect him less.

  She would never say it. Never show it. But for the first time, she saw him not as the untouchable, unshakable force he had always been, but as something lesser. Something flawed. Something fallible.

  And she tucked that thought away, deep where even he could never reach it.

  Hex worked in silence, the glow of her magic pressing deep into Sterling’s ruined flesh, mending what wounds she could. The worst of the damage remained, scars seared into him by the Guardian’s fire, but she had done all she could. His body was whole enough to move without collapsing. That would have to be enough.

  Sterling exhaled sharply, testing his limits as he pushed himself upright. He strode forward, dragging himself up the steps of his throne, his fingers gripping the carved bone armrests as he sank into the seat. Whatever had nearly undone him, he would not allow it to be seen as anything but another step in his ascension.

  “Go fetch your pets.” His voice was sharp, commanding. “I have work for them.”

  Hex lowered her head, stepping back. “Right away, Father.”

  She turned swiftly, striding toward the exit without hesitation, but that thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind. That moment of anger. That loss of control. The idea that he was not untouchable, that he could be hurt, had slipped into her thoughts, and no matter how tightly she tried to seal it away, it refused to be forgotten.

  The box had been opened. And some things, once let out, could not be put back.

  Far from Sterling’s domain, the survivors gathered in "The Sleeping Embers Inn." Though the building had taken damage from the battle, its walls still stood, its fires still burned, and its doors still welcomed those in need of refuge. It was a place of quiet resilience, of embers refusing to die out in the dark.

  The mood inside was solemn, the grief pressing down on those who remained. Yet, there was no time for despair. Not now. Not when those they had lost would never forgive them for surrendering to it.

  Leo sat by the fire, his hand resting over the ring that now housed Keira’s essence. Lucinda sat beside him, watching, waiting. And then, without a word, she reached forward, her hand covering his.

  "Restore," she whispered.

  Nothing.

  The ring remained as it was, the ruby embedded within, glowing softly, untouched by her healing attempt.

  Leo looked up, a soft, tired gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you for trying, Luci,” he murmured. “But I already knew it wouldn’t work.”

  Lucinda sighed softly, withdrawing her hand. “I had to try.”

  Across from them, Asha sat, silent yet resolute. Her posture was stiff, eyes unwavering as she stared into the flames, as though she might find answers hidden in the embers. Her voice broke the silence, quiet but unwavering. “We owe it to them to keep fighting. They wouldn’t want us to lose ourselves in grief.”

  Leo nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Keira, Evelyn, Amari...they believed in us. We have to honor them by continuing, by winning. No matter how much it hurts.”

  The group exchanged quiet glances, determination slowly overcoming the cloud of despair hanging over them. The Sleeping Embers Inn felt like more than just a refuge—it had become a place where their resolve could be reborn from the very ashes of loss.

  The heavy wooden door of the inn creaked open, allowing a gust of the cool night air to slip inside. Heads turned as Ember Sage Kaelith stepped through, his crimson robes lined with soot and sorrow. His usual grace carried a quiet resolve, a burden of exhaustion and loss, yet his duty remained unshaken, even in the face of total despair.

  Behind him, Ankit followed, Souleater hung from a loose strap over one shoulder, the hilt barely visible beneath the edge of his cloak. His face was darkened with fatigue, but he carried himself with the quiet steadiness of someone who had walked through fire and emerged.

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  Lucinda rose from her seat, taking a hesitant step forward. Her voice, though steady, carried the quiet ache of fresh wounds. "Sage Kaelith, I..." She swallowed. "I'm so sorry for Sage Elyndra. "Kaelith bowed his head, the briefest flash of pain crossing his features before he tempered it with a slow breath. “And I for all those you have lost. We mourn, but we endure.”

  His gaze swept the room, lingering for just a moment on the ruby set within Leo’s ring. A hint of understanding passed through his eyes.

  Ankit exhaled, stepping fully into the warmth of the inn. “Hope I didn’t miss too much.”

  As Ankit stepped further into the inn, the tension that had gripped the room finally eased. One by one, the others stood, approaching him with small gestures of acknowledgment, a clap on the shoulder, a nod of approval, a word of gratitude.

  He took it all in stride, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there was a weight behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He had returned, but not unchanged.

  Leo remained seated.

  His eyes lingered on Ankit, seeing the quick hands that had stolen Souleater from Sterling, the sharp mind that had turned the tide in a way none of them had anticipated. “You did good,” he said simply, offering a small nod. No celebration, not yet. There was still too much to weigh, too much unfinished.

  His thoughts drifted. Fire.

  Fire had always been there, shaping his past, defining his losses. Keira had spent her life fighting it, and in the end, she had become it. Sarah’s last moments had been swallowed by it, a nightmare of smoke and ruin that had never truly left him. Fire had always been an ending, a fear carved deep into his bones.

  But now…

  Leo glanced down at his hand, the weight of the ring undeniable. Slowly, without effort or thought, blue flames wrapped around his fingers, flickering in steady, controlled waves. There was no pain, no fear, only warmth. The fire wasn’t foreign. It wasn’t something to fight.

  It was now a part of him.

  Keira. Sarah. The fire. They were all the same now.

  And for the first time, he didn’t want to run from it.

  Ankit took a seat by the center hearth before drawing Souleater from its sheath. The blade caught the firelight, its surface drinking in the glow rather than reflecting it.

  The room stirred as the others gathered around. Even Sage Kaelith stepped closer, his focus locking onto the blade with quiet contemplation.

  Asha leaned in first, her fingers brushing the base of the blade, where two stones were embedded in ornate sockets, one diamond, the other emerald. She frowned. "These weren’t just for decoration."

  Lucinda’s eyes traced the length of the weapon before settling on the two vacant spaces beside the existing stones. "And these?"

  Ankit exhaled sharply, giving the blade a once-over before his attention turned towards Leo’s ring. The ruby gleamed in the firelight, its presence suddenly impossible to ignore. His expression darkened with realization.

  "Three guesses on what Sterling was going to put in one of those."

  The scent of roasted meat and fresh ale drifted through The Sleeping Embers Inn, carrying the warmth of the kitchen into the main hall. The conversation at the table had settled into a lull, the weight of their discoveries still lingering, when the sound of footsteps approached.

  Enya, the innkeeper, moved with an easy grace. She was a familiar face to anyone passing through Emberwood, known for her sharp wit, warm hospitality, and a knack for keeping the village's spirits high, even in the darkest times, balancing a large wooden tray laden with steaming plates and full mugs. She set the tray down at the center of the table, her eyes sweeping over the gathered group with a knowing look.

  "You lot have seen the end of the world and walked back from it," she said, setting a plate in front of each of them. "So, I figured you'd be needing something proper. Emberwood’s best."

  The meal fit the village’s reverence for fire, smoked venison glazed with a spicy emberfruit sauce, charred root vegetables roasted in thick tallow, and fresh-baked black bread still warm from the hearth. Alongside each plate, she placed a heavy mug of deep amber ale, its foam thick and inviting.

  Asha raised a brow as she took in the spread. "You trying to make us forget we’re in the middle of a war?"

  Enya smirked, leaning one hand against her hip. "Wouldn't be the worst thing, would it? Just eat. Even soldiers in a war need a decent meal."

  Leo ran a finger along the rim of his mug before lifting it. "To the ones who got us this far. To the ones we will always love."

  The others followed, lifting their drinks in quiet agreement. The first sip burned pleasantly, rich and full-bodied, washing away some of the exhaustion clinging to them. For a moment, just a moment, there was something close to peace.

  With their plates emptied and the warmth of ale settling in their stomachs, the group’s focus returned to the weapon resting at the center of the table. The firelight fled off Souleater’s dark steel, only to be caught in the embedded stones at its base.

  Asha leaned forward, her fingers tracing the base of the hilt. “So, we know that Keira had the Guardian of Fire hiding out in her heart.”

  Ankit nodded, arms crossed. “And that the Guardian must’ve fully awoken. That’s what defeated Sterling.”

  Lucinda exhaled, her gaze shifting between the ring on Leo’s finger and the blade before them. “The attack must have taken every ounce of its essence to use. That must be why Kiera turned into a gemstone.”

  Leo’s finger traced around the ruby in his ring. He glanced at the diamond and emerald set in Souleater, the pieces slowly falling into place in his mind. “Those must be the Guardians of Air. We saw that when…” His voice trailed off as his eyes darted toward Asha, then quickly back to the blade before continuing. “And that must be the Guardian of Nature.”

  Sage Kaelith, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke. “Which would leave the last empty socket. The Guardian of Ice.”

  For the first time that evening, another voice cut through.

  Emily.

  She had been sitting alone in the corner of the inn, neither speaking nor eating, a ghost among them. Now, she finally lifted her head, her voice dry and sharp. “I would imagine that no one here has any clue where they might be now, would they?”

  A silence passed between them, glances exchanged but no answers given.

  Emily huffed, shaking her head. “Exactly as I thought. No one knows. But you wanna bet who probably does? And is pulling himself together as we speak, while you all make toasts and cheer?”

  No one needed to say the name. They all knew.

  Sterling.

  Emily remained still, hands on her hips as she surveyed the group. “That’s right. Sterling most likely knows where the Guardian of Ice is. “And as soon as he’s at full strength again…” She paused, as if the thought was too much to voice. “He’ll go straight for them. And we have no idea where to even start.”

  No one had an answer. The truth was undeniable, and it hung over them like a blade waiting to fall.

  Suddenly the air in the inn shuddered.

  A gentle hum filled the air as a portal, swirling blue and white, unfurled like a slow-turning tide in the space between the hearth and the table. Cold poured from it, frost blooming across the floorboards in jagged veins. The warmth of the inn recoiled, breath misting in the sudden chill.

  Two figures emerged from the icy rift.

  The first was a young girl, barely more than a child, though there was nothing fragile about her presence. She carried herself with quiet authority, her dark violet hair cropped short, eyes piercing beneath the deep hood of her frost-lined cloak.

  The second was something altogether different, a massive wolf, its fur thick as a winter storm and streaked with glowing veins of ice-blue energy. Its steps were silent despite its size, its presence looming, unmistakably sentient.

  The portal snapped shut behind them, ice fracturing and melting into the wooden floor. The girl’s gaze swept the room, settling on the assembled group with an expression unreadable yet intent.

  She took a step forward. “You don’t need to search.”

  The silence deepened, tension winding like a coil.

  The girl’s lips parted once more, breath curling in the cold air.

  “I am the Guardian of Ice.”