The valley shook with the weight of colliding titans.
Lightning carved the sky in jagged white streaks. Ice crystallized the air until every breath tasted of winter's deepest bite.
The princess moved like a dancer whose steps left death in their wake, her rapier's point trailing frost that never melted.
Kael met her blade with claws wrapped in storms.
Thunder answered ice. Wind screamed against cold.
They were no longer people—they were forces of nature given flesh and fury.
Behind them, beyond the wall of glacial spikes that divided the valley like a god's broken teeth, the tribesmen fled.
***
Gaius stood on the ridge, watching the duel with the detached interest of a man cataloging power for future reference.
His hand rested on his sword hilt, fingers drumming a steady rhythm.
"Commander," one of his captains approached, saluting sharply. "The beasts are escaping the main battle zone. Should we pursue?"
Gaius's eyes remained fixed on the princess's glowing form.
The Winter Robe made her something between royalty and divinity—beautiful, terrible, absolute.
"Don't let them escape," he said without turning. "Chase them down. Leave nothing alive."
The captain saluted and wheeled his horse. Within moments, the army's flanking forces shifted—knights on horseback, mages with prepared spells, infantry in tight formations. They moved like a machine designed for one purpose: slaughter.
***
Bara stumbled, his massive frame still trembling from the totem's corruption.
The symbols burned into those cursed pillars had poisoned his transformation—his Magei Kara had been magnificent but brief, and now he barely had strength to stand.
Kari limped beside him, one arm hanging useless. Blood matted her fur where an arrow had found its mark during her weakened state.
Behind them, the sound of hoofbeats grew louder.
The elderly she-bear who had questioned Violet's honor call now carried three injured younglings on her back.
She turned to look over her shoulder, saw the mounted knights closing distance, and her eyes hardened with the resignation of someone who knew she wouldn't make it.
"Go ahead," she told the younger mothers. "I'll slow them down."
"Grandmother, no—"
"GO!"
She stopped, set the children down gently, and turned to face the approaching cavalry. Her claws extended. Her body began to shift
A lance took her through the chest before her transformation completed.
She fell without a sound.
The children screamed.
***
"Faster!" Vael barked, Violet looked behind and saw Vael following him,
"Why did you come?" She said as she was running towards the battleground...
"A pack never abandons..." Vael spoke and Violet sighed...
They both approached the battleground and Violet pulled out a mask and wore it...
"Why this?" Vael asked...
"It's still not time to show my face to them, I am tired, can you lift me up?"
Vael heard and picked up Violet...
Vael legs pumping with the desperate speed of someone who had seen this before—
had lost everything once and refused to again.
Violet's lungs burned. Her legs felt like they were made of lead. The mana expenditure from her earlier spells had drained her more than she'd realized.
The cursed blood in her veins made every use of magic cost triple what it should.
But she kept running.
Behind them, the mist she'd created with her spell was beginning to thin. Through the dissipating fog, she could see the corpses of the Dark Hornets she'd fought—motionless, defeated, no longer a threat.
But new threats had emerged.
Imperial soldiers were everywhere now, spreading like locusts across the valley floor. Some chased fleeing tribesmen.
Others began systematically searching for survivors among the wounded.
A young direwolf—couldn't have been more than sixteen—lay wounded near a boulder. A soldier approached, sword raised.
Violet's hand moved before her mind caught up.
"(Cold Wall!)"
The ice barrier erupted between the boy and the blade. The soldier's sword struck the wall and shattered.
The boy scrambled away, terror and confusion warring on his young face.
The soldier turned toward Violet's position, eyes narrowing—
Vael's claws opened his throat before he could shout.
The body fell. Vael didn't even slow down, just kept moving, kept scanning for threats.
"That was stupid," he said without heat. "You're running on fumes."
"I know."
"You can't save everyone."
"I know."
"Then why—"
"Because I have to try." Violet uttered and then her mana slowly turned her hair silver.
Vael's jaw tightened. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. "Then try by staying alive. Dead heroes don't save anyone."
They kept running.
***
The masked girl's sudden appearance stopped the pursuing soldiers in their tracks.
Silver hair spilled from beneath her hood—impossible to miss, impossible to mistake. Her eyes, visible through the mask's slits, burned with that distinctive violet that marked only one bloodline.
Bara, still struggling to breathe properly, stared. "Who—"
"RUN!" she shouted again, voice hoarse but commanding. "Don't look back! Get the children to safety!"
Kari grabbed Bara's arm. "Move! Now!"
The tribesmen scattered, carrying the wounded, herding the children. The masked girl stood between them and the advancing soldiers, one hand raised.
A mage in the front rank recognized the power signature even through her exhaustion. "It's the same ice that froze the princess's men earlier! Same property—temporal stasis!"
The captain barked orders. "Surround her! Don't let her—"
"(Tears of Night.)"
The words fell from Violet's lips like a prayer to forgotten gods.
Ice bloomed.
Not the massive displays from before—she didn't have the strength for that. But what erupted from her outstretched hand was enough: a garden of crystalline flowers that spread across the ground in a widening circle.
Each petal that touched a soldier's boot froze them mid-step, locking them in place like statues.
Not permanently. The spell was weak, her reserves nearly empty. They'd break free in minutes at most.
But minutes were all the tribesmen needed.
They disappeared into the rocky passes that led north and west, away from the battle, away from the slaughter.
Violet swayed on her feet. The world tilted. Her vision doubled.
One of the frozen soldiers' eyes tracked her even though his body couldn't move. She saw the promise there: When I'm free, you're dead.
"Let's see you try," she whispered, and ran.
***
Vael found her three hundred paces later, collapsed against a boulder and gasping for breath.
"Idiot," he said, but his hands were gentle as he helped her up. "Absolute idiot."
"They were... going to die..." Violet spoke
"And now you might." He slung her arm over his shoulder, taking most of her weight. "Come on. We need to get back."
"Back?" She blinked at him through the fog of exhaustion. "Back where?"
"To my father. To the real fight." His eyes were hard, determined. "If he falls, none of this matters. Everyone dies anyway."
Violet's mind slowly processed this. The princess. Kael. The duel that was shaking the valley itself.
She nodded weakly. "Okay. Let's—"
A spike of mana exploded in the distance.
Both of them froze.
It felt like her own power—that same cold, sharp, crystalline quality that marked Isvalar's bloodline. But magnified a hundred times over. A thousand times.
The air itself seemed to crystallize from the pressure.
"What..." Vael's voice was hollow. "What is that?"
Vael stared at her. "You're saying she wasn't even trying before?"
"She was testing him. Playing." Violet's hands clenched into fists. "But now she's serious."
From where they stood, they couldn't see the battle directly—the valley's geography blocked their view. But they could feel it.
The temperature had dropped so sharply that frost was forming on the rocks around them.
And under it all, another presence: Lightning. Storm. The howling fury of wind given teeth and claws.
"My father..." Vael's voice cracked. "He's used it too. Magei Kara wasn't enough. He's..."
"Vael—"
"We need to go back." He grabbed her shoulders, eyes desperate. "My father will die. The princess will kill him and then hunt down everyone who fled. We need to—"
"I know."
"Then why are we still standing here?!"
"Because..." Violet met his eyes. "Because I'm not strong enough. Not yet. If we go back now, I'll just be another corpse on the field."
"Then what do we do?!"
She was quiet for a long moment. The mana in the distance pulsed and surged—two powers locked in combat that transcended normal human capability.
When she spoke, her voice was steady.
"We go back. But not to fight."
"What?"
"Your father told everyone to run. That means he knows he might not win." She pulled away from Vael's support, standing on her own despite the trembling in her legs. "So we evacuate. Everyone we can. While he holds her attention."
"That's—that's giving up on him!"
"No." Her eyes were hard. "It's trusting him. He chose to fight so his people could escape. If we waste that sacrifice running back into a battle we can't win, then his death means nothing."
Vael's jaw worked silently. His fists clenched and unclenched.
Finally, voice thick: "I hate this."
"I know." Violet spoke,
"I should be fighting beside him." Vael replied,
"You're doing what he needs you to do. That's harder."
They stood there for another heartbeat, feeling the weight of their helplessness.
Then Vael turned north, toward where the tribesmen had fled. "Let's move. Fast."
They ran together into the gathering dark, leaving the sounds of divine combat behind them.
***
They reached a cave entrance thag lead to other refugees, but then Vael felt something....
"Da..."