Epilogue
Seraphae leaned back slightly in her chair, a soft, content smile resting on her lips.
She felt… wonderful.
Fed.
Rested.
Dressed in one of her favorite flowing gowns that shimmered subtly when she moved.
And most importantly… surrounded by those she loved.
Her gaze drifted across the dinner table.
Her father was animatedly describing something to Mareth and Aldric, gesturing with his hand as he spoke.
She smiled.
Aww…
He was so cute when he actually talked about something that interested him. Even if it involved defeating enemies… and rather crude descriptions of sword fights.
Aldric was listening attentively, occasionally asking a question, clearly engaged.
Her heart warmed.
Then her gaze drifted to the seat beside Goroth.
Her mother sat quietly, eating in small, measured movements. She wasn’t participating in the conversation, only offering the occasional polite nod.
Seraphae’s smile softened.
She looks sad.
No doubt the attack had taken more from her than she let on. Her mother had always been composed… strong, but Seraphae knew the subtle signs. The slight tension in her shoulders. The distant look in her green eyes.
I’ll need to talk to her after dinner… see what’s bugging her.
Her fingers idly traced the rim of her goblet as she watched her for another moment.
Then her attention shifted.
Her sisters were practically buzzing.
Reirdan had invited Nyxelle for a week-long trip to the coast of Vaal’ter.
Kaela and Zira were… less than thrilled.
“My man only wants to drool. No initiative!” Zira complained, crossing her arms dramatically.
Kaela smirked.
“It’s your own fault. You should let that man rest for half a day.”
Zira looked at her, offended.
“Rest? What are you on about? He doesn’t complain.”
Kaela threw her hands up, resigned.
The rest of the girls giggled.
So did Seraphae.
Then she looked around… and noticed them.
Aww…
Ulric and Lirith were seated close together in the corner.
Lirith leaned toward him, her fingers brushing his arm while Ulric murmured something quietly to her. She smiled. A soft, peaceful smile Seraphae had rarely seen on her.
They looked so cute together.
I can’t wait to hear how they met… how he is… and most importantly… how he managed to tame Lirith.
She had never seen her this at peace.
Lirith wasn’t looking at anyone but Ulric.
Seraphae sighed softly.
She’s in love.
Speaking of…
My knight.
She turned her head.
Aldric sat beside her.
Loose shirt.
Dark leather trousers.
Gods…
He was so handsome.
I’ll need to increase that tailor’s wage.
She had taken Aldric’s measurements herself while he was asleep and had the shirt custom made. Now the fabric stretched slightly across his shoulders, his arms looking like they were about to tear through the sleeves.
Seraphae nearly drooled.
She giggled softly.
Then leaned in and kissed him.
He turned, surprised, then smiled warmly at her.
Something bumped her leg.
She looked down.
Nimble.
“Aww… hey you. Were you out on some secret quest today too, you little munchkin?”
Nimble chirped softly, then turned and settled with his rump pressed comfortably against Aldric’s leg.
“Ah… I see. You missed daddy that much, huh?”
Aldric chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind Nimble’s ear.
The demon dog leaned into his touch, tail flicking happily.
Seraphae watched them, her chest warming.
Then she leaned closer.
“My love… what now?”
Aldric sighed softly, taking a sip of his demon wine.
“I don’t know, gorgeous. The Fog will drop at some point, so we should get ready… and this whole bloodline—”
He didn’t finish.
Nimble growled.
Then bolted into the shadows—vanishing.
Something began forming in the middle of the dinner hall.
The air shimmered… and warped.
Light bent inward.
A faint, swirling distortion appeared above the polished floor.
Conversation slowly quieted.
All eyes turned toward the center of the room.
First, it was crimson.
The portal.
The moment the red light bloomed in the center of the dining chamber, Goroth’s expression darkened instantly.
“Hellfire! Who forgot to lay another anti-apparition ward? Heads will roll if I find out who—”
Then the crimson shifted.
Faded.
And gave way to blue.
An unreal shimmer. Like liquid starlight, like a tear in the sky itself. The air grew still. Heavy. The light rippled outward, casting pale reflections across the polished stone floor and golden tableware.
The portal widened.
Then something came through.
Light.
Pure, radiant light poured into the chamber, pushing shadows back, forcing several demons at the table to narrow their eyes.
Seraphae leaned forward, breath caught in her throat.
A figure emerged.
A woman.
She stepped through slowly, as if descending from another realm entirely.
She was breathtaking.
Tall. Graceful. Ethereal.
Her long auburn hair was braided over one shoulder, each strand glowing faintly in the celestial light surrounding her. Behind her, vast white wings unfolded slightly. Feathers immaculate, layered, and luminous, catching the golden glow that surrounded her like a living halo.
And behind her head…
A perfect ring of radiant light hovered, like a sun suspended in the air.
Her armor was unlike anything Seraphae had ever seen.
White and gold. Elegant rather than brutal.
Flowing plates shaped to her body, with delicate golden filigree that shimmered as if infused with divine energy.
A glowing sigil rested at the center of her chest, pulsing softly.
Warm, golden light spreading across the armor like a heartbeat.
Her skirted armor flowed like silk, layered and soft, revealing glimpses of intricately crafted thigh guards and gleaming greaves beneath. Every movement she made seemed effortless, regal, impossibly poised.
In her hand she held a long spear, its head ornate, golden, and crowned with pale blue crystal.
Her eyes were closed as she passed through the portal.
Then—
Her armored boots touched the floor.
Click.
A soft metallic sound echoed through the silent hall.
The spear slipped from her hand.
It struck the floor.
Cling.
The sound rang across the chamber like a bell.
Silence followed.
Absolute silence.
She stood there.
Wings slightly lowered.
Head bowed.
Then slowly…
She opened her eyes.
They were stunning.
Brilliant blue.
Not simply colored, they glowed faintly, like twin stars burning behind calm, endless skies. The light within them was clear and pure, yet powerful enough to make even Goroth’s court instinctively tense.
They were beautiful.
And impossibly calm.
The kind of eyes that had seen centuries… and judged them all.
She spoke.
Her voice sultry, feminine.
“Ael’vara s?n Celyndor… Vaelyn s?n myr’eth. Thalen dor’iel.”
Seraphae felt her breath leave her.
Then a whisper was heard.
“No… this cannot be. You—you can’t cross…”
Seraphae knew that voice.
Her mother.
She never heard so much fear in it.
Elathiel’s hands trembled slightly against the table, her eyes locked onto the angel as if she were staring at a ghost pulled from a forgotten nightmare.
The angelic woman lifted her head slightly.
Her glowing blue eyes settled on Elathiel.
Cold.
“Your time will come, traitor,” she said calmly. “I did not come here for you.”
Silence.
The air itself seemed to tighten.
Goroth stood slowly.
His chair scraped against the stone floor.
His hand reached for the sword at his side.
Steel slid free with a sharp hiss.
He took a few slow steps forward, towering, his presence filling the hall.
“Then who are you here for?”
Seraphae’s stomach dropped.
She knew.
Gods…
She knew.
Everything slowed.
She saw the angel’s gaze shift.
Just slightly.
She saw those brilliant blue eyes move.
She saw them settle—
On Aldric.
He looked confused.
Uncertain.
Still seated.
Still unaware.
Seraphae moved before she even thought.
“You’re not taking my man anywhere!”
Her voice cut through the hall like a blade.
Chairs scraped.
Steel rang.
Goroth and several demons surged forward, weapons drawn, magic beginning to flare around them.
Power filled the chamber.
Elathiel suddenly screamed.
“No!”
The angel released the spear.
It struck the floor again.
Clang.
And time—
Stopped.
Literally.
Goroth froze mid-step.
Blades hung in the air.
Magic shimmered, suspended.
Even the flames along the walls stilled, frozen mid-flicker.
Only one figure moved.
The angel.
She stepped forward slowly.
Graceful.
Unhurried.
Hips swaying with quiet, deliberate allure.
Seraphae couldn’t move.
She couldn’t speak.
She wanted to scream.
Wanted to lunge forward.
Wanted to claw those brilliant blue eyes from her face.
She couldn’t.
Her body refused her.
She could only watch.
Watch as this radiant being crossed the chamber effortlessly, wings shifting softly, golden light trailing behind her like dust from a dying star.
The angel smiled.
At Aldric.
Then, without even glancing down, she lifted her spear.
With a gentle motion—
The spear touched thw table.
It split in half.
The giant polished slab of stone split cleanly, silently, parting like silk beneath divine steel.
She brushed the two halves aside with effortless ease…
As if the table were nothing more than twigs bound together.
Just to reach him.
Seraphae’s heart hammered.
No…
NO…
The angel stepped closer.
Close enough now.
She lifted her hand.
Placed her open palm beneath Aldric’s chin.
Gently.
Tenderly.
She raised his face toward hers.
He stood.
Not resisting.
Not confused.
Just… there.
Seraphae screamed.
Inside.
She felt it rip through her chest—
But no sound came.
The entire hall watched in absolute silence.
Then—
The angel leaned forward.
And kissed him.
Softly.
Slowly.
And that was when Seraphae felt it.
The bond.
Their bond.
It didn’t shatter.
It strained.
Like something being pulled too far—
Too fast—
Too violently—
And then—
It tore.
A jagged, ripping pain across her chest—
As if something inside her was being dragged away—
Piece by piece—
And she couldn’t stop it.
Her vision blurred.
Through the haze—
She saw it.
Aldric’s eyes.
Blue.
Not his.
Not anymore.
The angel pulled back.
Smiling.
And then—
Time didn’t resume.
Only he moved.
Aldric looked at her.
No—
Not at Seraphae.
At the angel.
The same way he had once looked at Seraphae.
Soft.
Gentle.
Like she was the only thing in existence.
Like Seraphae had never mattered.
His hand lifted.
Slowly.
Reverently.
His fingers brushed the angel’s cheek—
Familiar.
Intimate.
As if he belonged there.
As if he always had.
Something inside Seraphae gave way.
Not a break.
A collapse.
The angel smiled back.
Then she kissed him again.
Deeper.
Her hand slid behind his neck.
His lips parted—
Tongue.
He didn’t object or pull away.
Seraphae felt nothing now.
No pain.
No heat.
Just—
Empty.
The woman took his hand.
Her voice was soft.
“Come, my love.”
Aldric followed.
Without resistance.
Without looking back.
Not even when her world was collapsing behind him.
They stepped together toward the angelic portal.
Seraphae watched.
Helpless.
Broken.
They passed through.
The portal shimmered.
Closed.
And time resumed.
The hall was silent.
Seraphae sat back.
Her hands trembling.
Her chest empty.
And for the first time since she met him…
She reached for him—
and felt nothing.