His name was once sung like a spell.
Vireon.
The one who kissed me with ruin, who made love feel like dying beautiful, terrible, true.
And now?
He walks the surface again.
The sky doesn't dare resist him.
The mountains bend like courtiers.
Even the wind shudders as it carries his name.
I see him before he sees me.
But of course he already knows I'm watching.
He always did.
"So," he says, voice like honey laced with ash,
"Did the world miss me… or just you?"
He's not beautiful the way mortals understand.
He's beautiful like storms are.
Majestic in destruction.
Ruthless in motion.
Unforgettable in silence.
My summoned creature snarls beside me.
But Vireon doesn't even flinch.
"You replaced me with a shadow?" he asks, amused.
"No spine. No hunger. Just a shell that worships."
His gaze meets mine.
And the air between us ignites.
"I didn't come for war," he murmurs, taking a step closer.
"I came for what's mine."
"I was never yours," I snap.
He laughs.
The sound is devastating.
"No, Elóranth. You were never anyone's."
"That's what made you worth burning the stars for."
He reaches out, not to touch but to remind me how it once felt when he did.
"Let's finish what we started. Unmake the world we broke. Together."
I want to deny him.
But I feel it deep and deadly
The part of me that still aches for what we were.
And that's when I understand the truth:
He didn't come to fight me.
He came to awaken the version of me that chose him.
And maybe, just maybe…
She's still in here.
Waiting to rise.