"The wheel turns… we die… we are reborn… we suffer… we learn… all before life returns, in ways you won't imagine."
Ash mumbled some half-forgotten phrase from Earth, his voice carrying the polished rhythm of a court poet addressing a hushed audience, a stark contrast to the pale, sweeping crescent above, drifting down like the unhurried blade of an executioner with eternity to spare.
A faint, contented smile played at his lips as the lunar fire drifted down, immense enough to shroud five kingdoms and the barren lands between, bright enough to turn midday into a starless night.
Behind him, Seris and Thalion stood rooted in the furnace wind, gazing at the man they had followed as if the last trace of humanity had fallen away, unveiling something ancient, colder, and far more beautiful than any devil.
Thalion felt ice crawl down his spine despite the magma glow painting the clouds beneath them crimson and gold.
