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The night before the massacre, they laid side by side, not touching.
"If you asked me to stay," she whispered, "I would."
He turned to her — not with longing, but with resignation.
"I won't ask," he said. "Because I already know the answer."
She left at dawn.
And when she returned…
The city burned.
****************
The once-sacred court of Ashengar was no longer bathed in gold.
It stood in ruins — halls cracked like broken spines, its thrones shattered, its flags fluttering like ghosts in a winter storm. What had been the heart of Duskarra's nobility now pulsed with silence and ash.
Dren stood beneath the ruined arch of the eastern tower. Snow dusted his pauldrons, melting against the warmth of his armor's curse-forged core. His breath fogged in the frigid air, but his eyes burned.
"I was born here," Lysara murmured behind him.
He turned. She wore no armor now, just a travel-worn cloak, deep violet with frost creeping along the hem. Her sword was sheathed at her back, but her posture was tense — as if expecting the shadows to strike.
"Velmira was your home?" he asked, voice low.
She nodded. "Until I was ten. Until the king banished my father for treason."
Dren studied her face. "So much of you is made from exile."
"And so much of you," she said, stepping toward him, "is made from vengeance."
They stood in the open courtyard, where nobles once danced and whispered and plotted. Now, only crows witnessed their reunion.
"Why did you bring me here, Dren?"
He gestured to the scorched remains of the throne dais. "Because I wanted you to see what they took from me. From us."
"I already know."
"No. You saw. You didn't feel." His eyes met hers, fire and frost colliding. "They stripped me of a name. Called me bastard, heretic, devil-born. But you? They feared you even more. Because you loved me."
She flinched. Just slightly. But he caught it.
"You think I don't know why you left?" he asked.
"I left to survive."
"You left," he said bitterly, "because loving me made you a traitor."
Silence again.
Wind stirred dust through the ruined court.
"I didn't ask you to stay," he added after a pause, softer. "But gods, I wanted you to."
She exhaled, long and broken. "You always wanted without asking."
He looked away. "Maybe I was afraid you'd say yes."
She took another step, their distance shrinking with every breath.
"What happens now, Dren?" she asked. "You've spilled blood. Defied the gods. You've become everything they feared you'd be."
"I became what they made me."
"That's not an answer."
He drew closer. His gloved hand brushed hers — a whisper of contact, a war cry of temptation.
"I'll take Duskarra back," he said. "And I want you beside me."
Her pulse quickened.
"As your ally?" she asked.
"As mine. In every way."
She froze. His lips were a breath from hers. The broken court faded behind her — all that remained was the man who once made her believe in something beyond duty.
But then—
A roar shattered the moment.
From the ruined gate came a blur of steel and shadow. A beast — no, a knight — clad in corrupted armor, helm shaped like a serpent's skull. It moved with inhuman speed, slamming Dren to the ground with a war hammer carved from obsidian.
Lysara drew her blade in a heartbeat. "Dren!"
The knight turned toward her, eye slits glowing with violet fire.
"You defy the Covenant," it hissed, voice echoing like ten men at once. "He is claimed. You cannot have him."
She charged, steel meeting steel. Sparks burst as her blade struck the corrupted knight's hammer. They danced in a blur of light and shadow, her fury fueled by fear.
Dren rose behind the knight, blood on his lip, fury in his eyes.
"No one claims me."
With a roar, he summoned his arcane sigil. The mark of the cursed bloodline burned bright against the air — a phoenix wrapped in chains. Flames erupted, catching the knight mid-swing, flinging it into the shattered dais.
The silence that followed was violent.
Lysara stood panting, sword at the ready.
Dren's sigil faded from the air. He turned to her slowly. "You shouldn't have come."
"You called me here."
He shook his head. "No. Not with words."
Their eyes met again.
This time, she didn't look away.
"I'm not leaving you," she said.
"Even if it damns you?"
She stepped toward him — closer now, until his breath was hers.
"If you fall…" she whispered, "I fall with you."