>>Lyal

We were losing. I could see it in the way the knights moved, their strikes slower, their defenses faltering. The bonewraiths were relentless, their numbers growing as more of them emerged from the darkness, their hollow eyes glowing with a terrifying hunger. We'd managed to take down a few, but it wasn't enough. We were being overwhelmed.

Hael and Corvina were gone, and I had to make a decision.

"Fall back!!" I shouted, the words tearing from my throat. My voice cut through the chaos, and I saw the relief in the knights' eyes as they began to retreat. They knew we couldn't hold our ground any longer.

The knights came running back into the temporary barriers Archmage Deus was making. They didn't hold for long but they allowed some time for the knights to breathe.

Then, without warning, flames erupted from behind us.

!?!?!

All of us shot our heads back to look at the immense amount of magic. The flame burst forth like molten lava, a torrent of fire that roared into the night.

Is that the rift? The flames are coming up from there. The heat hit me like a wave, and for a moment, everyone froze, their eyes locked on the inferno that now dominated the battlefield. The flames cast everything in a hellish red glow, shadows flickering wildly across the trees and the bonewraiths that prowled among them.

"We're retreating!! Take out your scrolls! We're going back!!!" I yelled again, forcing myself to focus. The knights were already moving, tearing open their scrolls, their figures disappearing in bursts of light as the magic whisked them away to safety.

I held my scroll in my hand, waiting until the last of them had gone. I couldn't leave before that. The flames still raged, but I could see movement in the shadows—more bonewraiths, drawn by the fire, their twisted forms cutting through the darkness.

With the knights gone, I closed my eyes as I opened my scroll and then ripped it, ready to leave this hellish place behind.

...

Nothing happened.

???

I opened my eyes as panic surged through me, I stared at the scroll in disbelief.

What?

I tried again, tearing at the parchment, but it remained inert in my hand, the magic dead. My heart pounded, a cold dread settling in my chest. This couldn't be happening. I'd seen the others leave—why wasn't it working?

I tried once more, tearing the already torn paper, my hands trembling, but the scroll refused to respond.

...

I looked up. Deus was gone, his barrier was still there though and I stood in it.

That was when the realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

Hael!! That fucker.

He had set me up. I'd been betrayed, left here to die with the bonewraiths. Anger flared within me, hot and fierce, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear. I was alone now, surrounded by these monsters, and my only way out had been cut off.

The bonewraiths were closing in, their movements swift and silent. I could see their hollow eyes, dozens of them, glowing in the darkness like the eyes of a predator that had cornered its prey. The flames from the rift threw their grotesque forms into sharp relief, making them seem even more nightmarish.

And then even the flames vanished and everything went dark.

***

>>Hael

The horror of the situation sent a zap through my mind, making me recall things.

Rage, fear, desperation—these emotions clashed inside me, boiling and churning like molten lava threatening to erupt. My focus wavered, slipping away as I held Amber's limp body, her blood soaking through my clothes. The sight of her—pierced, broken, dying—was too much to bear. My magic, tethered to my emotions, responded before I could even think

"Hael," She whispered my name as blood streamed down her mouth two ways,

"Stay strong!" I said but she closed her eyes and her body went completely limp.

!!!?

My eyes wide as I stared at her,

No

My emotions burst out like wildfire.

Flames erupted around us, a fierce inferno fueled by the turmoil inside me. But instead of spreading out to protect us, to scorch the ground and everything in our vicinity, they shot upwards. The fire roared with a deafening intensity, soaring into the darkness above the rift. I should have controlled it, should have drawn it back, spreading the flames wide to cover our retreat, to give us a chance.

But I couldn't.

My thoughts were disjointed, fragmented, filled with images of Amber's blood spilling from her wounds, her life slipping away with each second. I wanted to lash out, to burn everything that dared to hurt her, but I couldn't focus. My flames were wild, uncontrollable, a reflection of the storm inside me.

The rift seemed to swallow my fire, the flames licking at the darkness, lighting up the abyss for a brief moment

Amber's body convulsed in my arms, a harsh, guttural sound escaping her throat as blood sputtered from her mouth. Her eyes fluttered, barely clinging to consciousness but also giving me the relief that she hadn't died yet.

But she was dying, slipping away right in front of me. I felt a cold, gnawing dread settle in the pit of my stomach, but I couldn't afford to let it take hold.

I couldn't lose her.

My magic surged again, this time more focused, more deliberate. I conjured a teleportation circle, the glowing runes materializing beneath us. The urgency of the situation drove me to act, my heart pounding in sync with the pulsing energy of the circle.

But I knew I was running out of time..

The circle flared to life, its energy enveloping us both and we made it out of there.

I cradled her closer, my arms tightening around her fragile form. I could feel her warmth, faint but still there.

The warmth of her blood seeping into my clothes. My heart pounded, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my ears, but even as I rushed to lay her down on my bed, a crushing sense of helplessness began to settle in my chest.

As I carefully lowered her onto the bed, my hands shook. I wanted to be gentle, to make sure she felt no more pain than she already had. But the sight of her—pale, lifeless, and drenched in blood—brought a wave of dread that threatened to paralyze me. Her eyes were closed, her breathing faint, as if she were teetering on the edge of life and death.

"Don't," I whispered, my voice cracking as I knelt beside her. I reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Don't leave me."

Her skin was cold to the touch, and the realization hit me like a sledgehammer. I couldn't feel her presence.

"Please," I begged, the words tumbling out as I tried to force my magic to work. My hands hovered over her wounds, and I summoned every ounce of power I had left, willing it to heal her, to erase the damage that Persephone had done. But it was no use. The miasma-infested wounds resisted my magic, the dark energy repelling my efforts like a cruel joke, "Please," My throat felt dry

The more I tried, the more futile it felt. My healing spells faltered, flickering out as if the darkness within her was swallowing them whole. I could see the traces of miasma lingering around the edges of her wounds, like tendrils of shadow that refused to let go. They twisted and curled, almost as if they were alive, mocking me with every failed attempt.

A cold, suffocating fear gripped my heart, and I felt my breath hitch. My eyes wide with fear and defeat. I had never been so afraid, never felt so utterly powerless and never this confused.

She was slipping away, and I wasn't sure what to do.

I leaned down, my forehead resting against hers, desperate to feel any sign of life, to hear her voice, to see her eyes open. But she remained still, her chest barely rising with each shallow breath.

"Don't go," I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm here. Please... don't leave me."

My vision blurred with unshed tears, and I cursed myself for not being able to protect her.

I had failed her. The thought of losing her, of never seeing her smile again, of never hearing her voice—of living in a world without her—was unbearable. I had faced countless battles, had seen more death than I cared to remember, but none of it had prepared me for this. None of it had prepared me for the possibility of losing her, for the hollow emptiness that gnawed at my soul.

"Please," I whispered again, my voice shaking as I held her hand, willing her to hold on, to stay with me. But she didn't respond. Her fingers were limp in mine, her body cold, and the fear that had been simmering inside me exploded into a full-blown panic.

I couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not now.

"You have to fight," I urged her, my voice raw with desperation. "You can't leave me."

But there was no response, no sign that she could hear me. Her wounds—deep and vicious—continued to bleed, and the miasma began to taint every inch of her skin it touched, turning it an ashen gray. I pressed my hand against her chest, feeling the weak, faltering beat of her heart beneath my fingers. It was too slow, too faint.

Panic surged through me, and I tried again to use my magic again, pouring everything I had into the healing spells.

"Come on!" I tried to make use of the mark I left on her body, but it wasn't working. "No, no, no," She needed to be conscious for me to use it, but now she had already slipped into a coma.

I kept trying, pouring all I had into her but the miasma fought back, its dark energy overwhelming my light, snuffing it out like a candle in a storm.

"Don't do this" I pleaded, my voice breaking. "You can't die... Please." I begged

But the words felt hollow in the quiet room. I had never felt this kind of fear before, this gut-wrenching terror that tore at my heart and left me gasping for breath.

It was too much to bear. And now I knew full well what her death was going to do to me.

It was going to leave me feeling empty, hollow, like a shell of the person I used to be.

My body began to shake, I poured so much of my magic out but nothing worked.

"Orenya," I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks as I leaned closer, my voice filled with a desperation I had never known before. "Please... come back to me."

But she remained still, her chest barely moving, I could feel her slipping away, feel the life draining out of her, and it tore at my heart, leaving a raw, gaping wound that I knew would never heal.

I pressed my forehead against hers, closing my eyes as I tried to hold back the tears that I never knew I was capable of shedding. I could feel her pulse weakening, could feel the coldness of death creeping in, and I was powerless to stop it.

The emptiness inside me grew, a void that threatened to consume me.

"No," I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of the word. It was a feeble protest, a denial of the reality that was unraveling before me. My heart... if I could even call it that anymore, trembled violently within my chest. It wasn't just trembling; it was breaking, shattering into a million jagged pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last.

The pain...

I gulped in an attempt to lubricate my dry throat.

"You can't do this to me," I pleaded, my voice nothing more than a broken whisper. My hand clung desperately to hers, the warmth already fading from her skin. My other hand hovered over her stomach, magic pulsing through my fingers, but it was useless, yet I couldn't bring myself to stop.

I would pour out all of my being for her.

"This is all my fault," I choked out, my voice quivering with guilt and fear. The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. "I-I keep losing you." My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the tears came anyway, hot and stinging, spilling down my face. "Not again," I begged, my voice breaking, my heart twisting with a desperation I had never known.

"Orenya," I called her name, the one I had never used, the one I had kept hidden in the deepest part of my heart. But now, in this moment, it was the only name that mattered, because that is what she was to me, "Please." The word tore from my throat, raw and desperate, a plea that echoed in the empty silence.

"I-I," I stammered, my voice barely more than a whisper. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to express the depth of what I felt. "Come back," I whispered, my voice breaking on the last word. "I still have to give you my answer."

I lowered my head, pressing my forehead against hers again, tears dripping onto her cold skin. "Please," I whispered, the word a broken plea. "Please." The silence was crushing, a void that threatened to swallow me whole. "Please," I begged again, my voice barely audible, "Please."

But there was nothing. Just the cold, empty silence, and the horrifying realization that I might have lost her forever once again. The thought was unbearable, a weight that pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"I turned back time just for you," I confessed, the words a bitter reminder of what I had done, of the lengths I had gone to for her. I had bent the very fabric of reality, defied the natural order of the universe, all for her. And now, it was all slipping away, like sand through my fingers, "I would do it again if I could,"

I lifted my head, my vision blurred by tears, and looked at her. She lay there so still, so silent, and the sight of her like this, so lifeless, was more than I could bear. "Don't leave me," I whispered, my voice trembling, "Please... Only you can heal this kind of wound. Wake up. Just for a second, please, a mere second is all I need."

But nothing. She kept bleeding out, her body slowly getting consumed by the miasma.

***

>>Persephone

I stared at my hands

They were trembling, completely burnt and shriveled up.

That guy... I kept staring at my burnt hands. He was not a light magic user, and a male having holy powers is impossible.

So how did he manage to burn me like this?

Volume 3- The End

Orenya : My Heart