Night settled slowly over the border.
Kael stood at the edge of the Aethros camp, away from the noise of the soldiers and the crackle of fires. The land ahead was quiet, almost peaceful, as if it did not know war had claimed it again and again.
Almost.
Behind him, voices carried.
"She held the line alone," one soldier said. "The Nyvorians didn't break."
Kael turned slightly, listening without meaning to.
"They say it was their commander," another replied. "A woman."
Kael frowned. "A woman?"
"Yeah. Calm. Sharp. Didn't chase us, didn't panic. Just… stopped us."
There was a pause.
"What was her name?" someone asked.
The answer came softly, almost carelessly.
"Lunara."
The name settled in Kael's chest in a way he didn't expect.
Lunara.
He did not know why it mattered. He had fought countless enemies. Names usually faded as quickly as faces. But this one stayed.
He looked back toward the dark horizon.
Across the border, on Nyvoria's side, Lunara stood on the city wall.
The night air was cool against her skin. Torches burned low along the stone, their light trembling in the wind. Beyond the walls stretched the same land Kael watched from the other side.
She rested her hands on the stone and let out a slow breath.
Somewhere out there was the enemy camp. Somewhere out there was the man who had blocked her strike and let her live.
She did not know his name.
Yet when she closed her eyes, she could still see his expression. Not fear. Not rage.
Hesitation.
The spirits were quiet tonight. Too quiet.
Lunara opened her eyes and stared into the darkness, feeling as if the distance between the two lands had grown thinner somehow. As if the border itself was listening.
On the Aethros side, Kael tightened his cloak against the cold. The name echoed again in his thoughts.
Lunara.
He did not understand why it felt important. He only knew that the war no longer felt faceless.
Above them both, the same moon watched in silence.
Neither Kael nor Lunara knew it yet, but this night marked the first time the war had a name.