The dawn that followed was unlike any other.
Where once the rift had torn through the sky, now lingered a faint aurora streaks of silver and gold dancing across the horizon. The land still trembled from what had transpired, yet for the first time in months, the wind carried no scent of decay.
Arka stood at the edge of the battlefield, his armor cracked, his breath uneven. He gazed up at the shimmering sky, feeling a strange rhythm pulsing in his chest. It wasn't just his heartbeat anymore. It was hers too.
Seraphiel was nowhere to be seen.
Only the faint glow of feathers fading motes of light hovered near him before dissolving into air.
"She's… gone?" Arka whispered.
"No," came a voice within his mind. It was soft, melodic, and undeniably hers. "Not gone. Merely within."
Arka froze. Seraphiel?
"You carry part of my essence now," she said gently. "Our souls are interwoven the bridge between mortal and celestial. You'll feel me, hear me, and when needed… I'll lend you strength."
He clenched his fists, unsure whether to feel comforted or terrified. "So this is what a divine bond feels like…"
From behind him, Lysander approached, his armor scorched and his expression unreadable. "You survived, then. That's… impressive." His eyes flicked toward the sky. "And the rift?"
"Sealed," Arka said, his tone weary but firm. "But it wasn't free."
Lysander studied him for a long moment. "You've changed, Arka."
"I know." Arka's gaze hardened. "The stars whisper louder now. And something tells me this peace won't last."
Before Lysander could respond, a tremor shook the ground. A series of runic beacons lit up in the far distance the capital's boundary wards. Someone was summoning him.
"Looks like the High Council wants answers," Lysander said grimly.
Arka sheathed his blade, its edge faintly glowing with a mix of gold and silver light. "Then we'll give them the truth. Whatever comes next, they deserve to know."
But deep within his chest, Seraphiel's voice murmured again this time filled with unease.
"Be careful, Arka. Mortals fear what they don't understand. And now, you carry both heaven's light and the beast's legacy. To them, you are no longer just a savior… you are an omen."
The council hall was vast, carved from celestial marble and infused with threads of living mana. Its tall windows framed the morning light, and in the center stood the High Council of Solaria the rulers, scholars, and mages who oversaw the realm's fate.
As Arka entered, whispers rippled across the chamber.
He could feel their eyes on him some in awe, others in suspicion.
The High Seer, an elder with eyes of glowing amber, leaned forward. "Arka of the Star Wolf bloodline… you have done what none before you could. You sealed the rift. But at what cost?"
Arka hesitated, glancing toward the floor as faint motes of light danced around him Seraphiel's essence responding to his emotions.
"The cost," he said quietly, "was sharing my soul with a celestial."
The hall erupted in murmurs.
One mage stood abruptly. "Blasphemy! The laws forbid such fusion between mortal and divine!"
"Enough," the Seer commanded. His gaze remained fixed on Arka. "Explain."
Arka took a breath. "It was the only way. The Song of Balance required dual essence mortal will and divine light. Without it, the rift would've consumed our world."
Silence fell again. Then the Seer spoke softly. "And now… you are both?"
"Neither," Arka said, his voice firm. "I am what remains when both coexist."
The Seer's expression darkened. "Then understand this: such existence defies natural law. The heavens will not remain silent."
Before anyone could speak further, the sky above the hall darkened. A pulse of celestial energy heavy, cold, absolute descended from the heavens.
Arka felt Seraphiel tense within him.
"No…" she whispered. "That presence… it's one of them."
The chamber shook as light tore through the clouds, revealing a descending figure clad in gold and white armor, wings spread wide, and a halo burning like a miniature sun.
Gasps filled the hall. "An Archon," someone breathed.
The being's voice thundered across the chamber.
"Arka of the Star Wolf. You have defied divine decree. You merged with a fallen Seraph and tampered with forbidden light. By order of the Celestial Court, you are to be judged."
Arka raised his head, meeting the Archon's blazing gaze without flinching. "Then let them judge me."
The Archon's eyes narrowed. "You misunderstand, child. Judgment is not a debate. It is a sentence."
Golden light flared and the floor beneath Arka shattered.