The wind howled through the broken palace like a mourning spirit.
Talen stood alone at the heart of the mountain's sanctum, surrounded by ancient relics of a world long buried beneath myth. The firelight flickered across the stone walls, casting shadows that danced like forgotten ghosts.
He had won the first battle.
But it felt like a loss.
---
"You hesitate."
Vorathax's voice cut through the silence like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Talen did not turn.
"I gave them peace," he said quietly. "They refused it."
Vorathax stepped forward, his form shifting between man and beast, between memory and reality.
"Peace is not given," the dragon murmured. "It is enforced."
Talen exhaled sharply.
"I saw her eyes," he whispered. "She didn't fear me. She pitied me."
Vorathax studied him carefully.
"And do you still believe in what we are doing?"
Talen looked down at his hands—fingers tipped with claws, veins pulsing with firelight.
For the first time since his awakening, he hesitated.
"I believed I was restoring balance," he admitted. "But now… I don't know if I'm saving this world or breaking it."
Vorathax's gaze darkened.
"The gods do not question their purpose."
Talen finally turned to face him.
"But I remember what it was to be human."
And with that, the air around them shifted.
A pulse of something old—something buried—rippled outward.
Vorathax narrowed his eyes.
"You are forgetting your place."
Talen met his gaze.
"No," he said softly. "I am remembering mine."
---
In the rebel camp hidden deep within the ruins of Eldenhold, Vintrinx trained under the stars.
Her body ached from the last battle. Her mind burned with what came next.
Seyra watched her closely as she practiced her strikes, each movement sharper than before.
"You're stronger," Seyra noted. "Your power grows."
Vintrinx wiped sweat from her brow.
"It has to," she said. "Because next time, he won't hold back."
Seyra tilted her head.
"And you will?"
Vintrinx paused.
Then nodded.
"I will fight him," she said. "But I won't kill him."
Seyra raised an eyebrow.
"He tried to burn this city to ash."
Vintrinx lowered her sword.
"He was trying to save it," she said. "In his own way."
Seyra studied her for a long moment.
"You still love him."
Vintrinx didn't answer right away.
Instead, she looked toward the distant mountain peak where firelight flickered through the clouds.
"Yes," she admitted. "And that's why I have to stop him."
---
That night, Talen dreamed.
Not of dragons.
Not of gods.
Of a boy and a girl standing by a river.
Laughing.
Chasing each other through the tall grass.
The boy held a wooden sword.
The girl held a carved wolf charm.
And then—
Flames.
Cries.
A throne.
A crown of bones.
A whisper:
"You were never meant to rule."
Talen woke up gasping.
His chest burned.
His vision blurred.
Something inside him cracked.
And for the first time since becoming a god…
He remembered who he used to be.
Not the prince.
Not the knight.
Not the hero.
Just a boy who once wanted to be loved.
---
Talen returned to the council chamber where the dragons gathered.
Vorathax waited.
"So?" the elder dragon asked.
Talen stepped forward.
"I've made a decision."
The others fell silent.
"We will not force humanity to kneel," he declared. "We will give them a choice."
A murmur of shock spread through the room.
Vorathax's eyes darkened.
"You defy us?"
Talen met his gaze without flinching.
"I defy what we've become."
Vorathax took a slow step forward.
"You forget your place."
Talen smiled faintly.
"No," he said. "I finally remember it."
And with a single breath, fire erupted from his mouth—not aimed at the rebels below—but at the throne itself.
At the heart of the mountain, the flames of godhood turned inward.