The air trembled as the light faded. Dust and shards of crystalized mana rained over the northern plains, glowing faintly like dying stars.
Arka and Lysander arrived moments later, leading a small contingent of royal sentinels. The ground was split open a crater vast enough to swallow a fortress. At its heart stood a single figure.
She was unlike anything Arka had ever seen.
Feathers of silver flame drifted around her body, her wings half-torn, yet every motion radiated a quiet power that defied the mortal realm. Her skin glowed faintly like polished moonstone, and her eyes deep and endless shimmered between gold and black.
Not divine. Not human. Something in between.
When she spoke, her voice was calm, melodic, but carried an undertone that made even the wind pause.
"You carry the Mark of the Abyss," she said softly. "And yet… the stars answer to you."
Arka took a cautious step forward, the sigil on his arm pulsing in response to her presence. "Who are you?"
"I am Seraphiel," she replied. "Once the Herald of the Celestial Order… now, its exile."
Lysander drew his sword slightly. "Exile? What does a being like you want here?"
Seraphiel's gaze shifted to him a glance that could silence thunder. "Balance," she said. "The seal between realms has begun to thin. The Abyss within him," she gestured toward Arka, "has already sung to the stars. That song has awakened me."
Arka frowned. "You mean my seal triggered your descent?"
"Not yours alone," she answered. "The world itself has begun to fracture. The power you hold the Star Wolf's legacy was never meant to exist in a single vessel."
She raised a hand, and the sigil on Arka's arm flared violently. A burning pain seared through his skin, forcing him to drop to one knee.
Lysander stepped forward instantly. "Enough!"
But Seraphiel only looked at Arka with pity. "Do you feel it? The pulse of the heavens and the Abyss resonating within you? You are the bridge, Arka. The key to both salvation… and annihilation."
The pain eased as suddenly as it came. Arka struggled to his feet, panting. "If you came here just to speak in riddles, then save your breath. I didn't ask for any of this."
Seraphiel's expression softened. "No one ever does. But destiny rarely cares for consent."
She turned her gaze toward the horizon. "Soon, the Celestial Order will descend they will not allow the existence of a hybrid bound by both star and void. When that happens, you will have to choose which side you stand on."
Lysander's voice hardened. "And what side do you stand on, exile?"
Seraphiel paused. "The one that still believes mortals deserve the right to decide their fate."
Before either could respond, the clouds above tore apart again this time not from light, but from darkness. A rift opened in the sky, swirling like an inverted sun.
From within it, shadows spilled across the plains, taking form tall, eyeless beings made of smoke and starlight, their cries echoing like broken hymns.
Seraphiel spread her wings, half burning, half broken. "The Voidborn have awakened. They followed me through the breach."
Arka drew his sword, its edge blazing silver. The sigil on his arm pulsed in rhythm with the falling shadows.
"Then we end this before they spread," he said.
Seraphiel glanced at him a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "You would fight beside an exile?"
Arka smirked faintly. "As long as you're not trying to kill me, that's good enough."
A faint smile ghosted across her lips. "Then let the stars bear witness."
The ground erupted as the first wave of Voidborn charged. Arka leapt forward, silver flames igniting around him. Seraphiel moved beside him, her torn wings cutting arcs of light through the dark.
Lysander raised his blade, shouting orders to the soldiers. "Hold formation! Protect the prince!"
But the storm of shadows was endless a tide of void meeting the fury of starlight. And at its heart, two figures fought as one: the mortal heir of the Star Wolf, and the fallen herald of the heavens.
And above them, unseen by all, the stars began to shift.