Aeris, Goddess of Flame and War.

The storm had vanished.

And yet, Ren Zian stood in stillness, as if the winds had carved themselves into his bones.

The feather in his palm shimmered faintly—violet edged in silver. Sariel's last presence. Not a token of love, not a symbol of regret. Just... memory. One he would carry alone.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips.

He had released her.

And now, the silence that followed was not peace—but space. A hollow space where she used to be.

He didn't know how long he stood there—until the world around him cracked.

A beam of golden light fell through the darkness like a divine blade, piercing the realm of the second trial. With a sudden pull, he was yanked upward.

Back to the Celestial Palace.

His feet hit the marble floor with barely a sound. No mist. No ceremony. Just… return.

Only two people waited for him.

Lyra, Goddess of the Celestial Bloom.

And Saphira, his current divine Patroness.

Both watched him silently.

Saphira's expression was unreadable. Regal, composed. But Lyra… Lyra looked as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time.

Ren didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

Lyra crossed the room first, stepping past Saphira's cool restraint. Her robes glowed with lunar light, but her eyes—her eyes were human.

"You saw her," she said softly.

Ren nodded.

Lyra reached for his hand, then paused.

He opened his palm. Showed her the feather.

She touched it lightly.

"It didn't burn," she whispered. "That means… she let go too."

Ren's throat tightened. "I didn't deserve it."

"No," she agreed. "But you still chose right."

He should've pulled away. Should've spoken about the next trial, or the divine war, or anything else.

But instead—he let her stay there.

Fingers resting over his.

The contact was warm. Not divine. Not dangerous. Just warm.

Behind them, Saphira's eyes narrowed.

"Touching display," she said coolly, stepping forward, her violet train trailing stardust across the floor. "But I did not summon you here to mourn an old bond."

Ren blinked. "Then why?"

Saphira held out a parchment. "Because the gods are watching now. Closely. After what you did in the second trial, your next step could shift the divine balance."

He frowned. "You mean letting Sariel go made them—"

"Uncomfortable," Saphira finished. "You weren't meant to choose release. You were meant to choose power. They wanted proof you'd sacrifice emotion for ascension."

Ren laughed softly. Bitter. "Then they chose the wrong pawn."

Saphira's lips twitched. "They did. Which is why some are now intrigued."

The parchment glowed as he unrolled it.

A divine invitation. Stamped with the seal of Aeris, Goddess of Flame and War.

Lyra stepped back at the name.

Saphira raised an eyebrow. "She doesn't extend invitations lightly."

"Why now?" Ren asked.

"Because Sariel is gone," Saphira said. "And Aeris once wanted her spot."

Ren's jaw tensed. "So I'm to be auctioned again?"

"No," Saphira said. "This time, you're being tested… by desire."

He didn't like the way she said that.

"What's the trial?" he asked.

Saphira's smile was slow. "A dinner. With Aeris. Alone."

Lyra's voice rose slightly, a tinge of worry hidden beneath her calm. "She's not just flame. She's madness when crossed. You think she'll let him walk in and out unscathed?"

Saphira tilted her head. "That depends on how well he handles temptation."

Ren looked between the two goddesses—one a flame he'd never touched, the other a bloom he was only now starting to see.

And the space where Sariel had stood between them?

Now open.

He exhaled.

"I'll go," he said.

That night, before the divine escort arrived, Ren stood alone on the palace balcony.

Below him, the skies swirled with constellations. Each one a symbol of gods long past.

He traced the outline of one—the Winged Path, Sariel's emblem. It was already fading from the heavens.

"Letting go doesn't mean forgetting," a voice said behind him.

He turned.

Lyra stood at the edge of the balcony, arms folded. No divine armor. Just a soft silver robe, unbound hair.

"You shouldn't be here," he said gently.

"I shouldn't have followed you into the Trial of Binding either," she said. "But I did."

She stepped beside him.

"Do you miss her?" she asked.

He didn't lie. "Yes."

"Enough to wish you hadn't let her go?"

"…No."

Lyra smiled, just a little. "Good."

Silence stretched again.

And then—she surprised him.

She leaned in.

Her head rested on his shoulder.

Not a kiss. Not a test.

Just... presence.

"I hated her sometimes," Lyra whispered. "Because you looked at her the way I wanted to be looked at."

Ren's heart stopped.

"I don't want to take her place," she continued. "I just want to be seen… too."

He turned.

This time, he didn't hesitate.

He lifted her chin.

And kissed her.

It wasn't fire.

It wasn't divine.

It was soft. Slow. Real.

And she kissed him back.

Her fingers slipped into his hair. His hand found her waist.

When they broke apart, neither moved away.

"I see you, Lyra," he said.

"And I'm still here," she whispered. "When you're ready."

By morning, the celestial envoy arrived.

Three flaming chariots, a skywolf, and a scroll bathed in molten gold.

Ren read the message.

"To the boy who defied bonds.Come see if you can resist mine."—Aeris

He smirked.

Let the next trial begin.

But this time, he wouldn't go in with chains.

He would walk in as himself.

And gods help anyone who tried to bind him again.