Gathering End

The snow fell thick and silent the night the wolf-monster came.

Kael and Lira were gathering were in the woods gathering herbs needed by Lira's father, laughing and chasing one another in between the collection, doing two things at once:e gathering herbs and having fun.

But suddenly the world changed as a monster looking like a wolf-human hybrid with a predatory gaze as if looking for food put his eyes upon them as if they were his prey.

Kael froze, terror pinning him in place, looking into the eyes of the monster as that gaze chilled the bones of Kael; all his training was nothing in front of a real threat.

The monster raised its claws at Kael while he stood there like some statue waiting for the claw to descend.

But unlike him, Lira, quick and fierce, shoved him aside just as the creature's claws raked down her arm, spraying blood onto the snow. She cried out and stumbled, but the cry snapped Kael out of his trance.

He seized the nearest stick, swung it with everything, and hit the wolf-monster square in its snout. It let out a growl and prepared to charge again.

But as it heard the footsteps of others who were coming, it turned and bolted into the woods, leaving behind only tracks in the snow and the faint echo of Lira's cry.

Kael sat on the edge of Lira's bed, fists in his lap, watching as her father finished dressing Lira's injury.

The fire crackled, and shadows danced along the walls, but Kael barely felt the heat. Guilt ate him alive.--he could still see the monster's claws, like serrated steel, breaking skin, and he could still hear the echo of Lira's cry.

Once Lira's father left after talking to her for hours to take care of her, but left as he had other duties he needed to attend which he could not decline, as he was the only physician here. Lira shifted slightly as she was sitting up, wincing slightly but putting on a small, brave smile. "Does it hurt?" Kael said nervously.

To which she gave a nonchalant reply. "I've had way worse scrapes from chicken chasing."

Kael shook his head, tears in his eyes, voice thick. "It's not the same thing. That thing could have... " He swallowed the rest. "If I hadn't simply stood there-if I had done something sooner-you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

She looked at him for a moment with soft eyes. "Kael, you did do something. You ran it off. You brought us back here safe." She nudged him lightly with her good arm. "You are braver than you think."

He stared at the floor, shame burning in his cheeks. "I was so scared. I couldn't move. I thought... I thought you would hate me for it."

Lira's voice was gentle. "I could never hate you. Everyone gets scared. Even heroes in stories get scared sometimes. But you didn't run away. You stayed with me."

Kael looked up to meet her eyes. "But I want to be better. I want to be someone you can depend on. Someone who protects the ones he cares about."

She smiled, a little crooked but warm. "You already are, Kael. But, if it helps, let's make a promise. You'll always try to protect me -- and I'll always try to keep you out of trouble. Deal?" She extended her pinky, wagging it cheerfully.

He hesitated only for a moment, then linked his pinky with hers, the gesture seemed to change or seal something. "Deal. I promise, Lira. I'll always try to protect you. No matter what."

Lira squeezed his finger, her eyes bright. "And I promise I'll always believe in you. Even on the days when you don't believe in yourself." 

There was a quiet peace between them, born out of shared fears and honest words. Outside, the snow danced in carefree fashion, but inside of him Kael felt something fresh. A sprightly warmth of courage, inspired from the promise he had made, and the faith in Lira's bright eyes.

----------

The demon's claws grasped Lira's hand as it laughed loudly in the hall, the vibrations of his laughter traveling within.

 Kael's breath caught—not again, not again, not this way, not like before—as memories of snow and blood overwhelmed his mind. Lira's scream jolted him back. 

"Let her go!" Kael roared, lunging forward, but the demon made an amused, careless backhanding motion that sent him crashing into a pillar, ribs cracking, vision dancing into darkness. 

"I can't... I can't fail her again." 

Lira wrestled and struggled against the demon's grip, her eyes wide in fear but not looking away. "Kael⎯run!" 

"No. No. I promised." 

His mana, always reluctant and sluggish, surged at last—not through the roadways that his father had hammered into him, but in a chaotic spiral of desperate uncertainty. Heat ignited a golden fire within his chest, as the mana exploded with rage and acceptance, gushing through his veins and muscles to claim his body.

"This isn't... how you are supposed to..." 

But he didn't care.

"GIVE HER BACK!!!"

The words tore from him, raw and animalistic. A wave of golden light shot out from him, a shockwave of pure aura that vaporized the demon's arm. The demon shrieked, its entire being dissolved to ash as the portal behind it imploded with an explosion-paced crack. 

Kael collapsed into a heap, the aura extinguishing as quickly as it had ignited. Pain seared through every cell in his body, but Lira's arms were around him, and he could hear her voice, shaky but there.

"Kael... Kael..."

Two doorways away Valen and Reinhardt were stunned. Valen's usual icy mask was shattered, his crimson eyes wide. "Impossible."

Reinhardt was unaware his holy sigils flared. "The Golden Aura... it can't be." 

But Kael was not listening to reason. He could only see Lira's face, unharmed and whole, watching as her tears fell on his burnt tunic.

"You... okay? he rasped.

She laughed, half sobbing. "I'm okay? You idiot - you melted a demon!"

He tried to smile. "Told you... I will keep my promise."

As darkness enveloped him, Kael held on to one truth: he had finally become the hero she had always believed he could be.

In the ruined gallery above, the air was suddenly electrified with tension as the two Dukes descended. Valen Rosenthal and Reinhardt Kallenhart descended the grand staircase, their while their surrounding were full of terror, they seemed to cut through it like a blade on silk. The battered, surviving nobles, and nobility, parted giving way; you could see, feel the weight of their titles, their power.

An enormous demon crawled closer, ready to pounce, sensing their arrival with a howl. Reinhardt had prevailed first; at that time his holy, golden sigils lit up across his gleaming armor. Without hesitation, he made a single, powerful, driving step crashing his shield into the demon's chest causing it to skid across the marble. His trailing sword, a serpentine arc split the flesh of the massive demon, the spark ignited like smoke, parting towards the undead horror exposing it as vapor through dimensional communion, leaving only a burst of sanctified flame.

Valen, as always, was exhibited deadly elegance. Another demon lunged from the shadows and Valen raised a single hand, fingers curled outward. Frost and bloodfire twisted together in a swirl, up his arm. A flick of his wrist produced a lance of red ice that shot zealously forward and erupted through the demon's body as it froze mid-roar. With a moment, hard to tell if this was intentional or not, the demon splintered into countless shards, glittering upon its death. 

The music quieted, and the last echoes of combat shrank beneath the steps of the Dukes. Reinhardt sheathed his sword, looking over the battlefield until it landed on Kael. The look on his face was a mix of pride and worry, but there was something deeper – a father's fear was intertwined with the unbelievable awe of a miracle. 

Valen's sharp eyes scanned from the debris of chaos until he found Anwir. Selene was already at the butler's side, gently lifting him and partially drawing and carrying him back to Selvaria. For a moment, Valen's gaze paused on him and was unreadable - part curiosity, part calculation, and the smallest hint of approval.

As the dust cleared and the survivors began to pick themselves up, the Dukes stood in the middle of the shattered hall; they were a reminder that the old powers of the Empire had not yet lost their luster—and new legends were being written in the fires of this night.