The air trembled as Elior's gaze locked with hers.
Somewhere deep within that mortal shell, something ancient stirred—a melody that once belonged to heaven.
"I remember the fall," he said softly.
His voice carried the weight of lifetimes. "The fire, the wings, the promise we couldn't keep."
She froze. Her breath hitched. "Elior... you were never meant to carry that burden."
"But I did," he replied, taking a step forward.
"When the stars went dark, I searched for you.
When time turned to dust, I waited."
The ground beneath them shimmered faintly, runes awakening from slumber.
The chapel's cracked stones began to glow, whispering forgotten prayers.
And from the shadows, feathers—ashen and glowing with faint gold—rose into the air.
"Your grace still lingers," he whispered, reaching out his hand.
"Let me help you remember who you were, my angel of dawn."
She looked at him, tears glistening like crystal.
"Who I was... or who I must become again?"
Before he could answer, the wind roared—
a spiral of light and shadow burst from her chest, flaring like the birth of a star.
Her wings, no longer ash, unfurled behind her in a blaze of gold and silver.
The forgotten sky trembled, welcoming her back.
Elior smiled through the storm.
"At last," he murmured. "You found your light."
But she, with eyes shining brighter than the moon, whispered back—
"No, Elior. We found it."
And the world began to awaken.