The ground was soft here—surprising, after all the jagged rock and burning rivers they'd crossed. A hollow valley of ash trees surrounded the clearing, their silver leaves whispering in a wind that didn't stir the sky.
A safe place.
The first they'd found in a long time.
Ethan gathered dry, hollow branches that burned cleanly. Sarah etched a protective circle around the camp with slow, glowing runes. Lilith sat with her back to a fallen stone column, her flame flickering low in her palm, not for battle—but warmth.
The fire crackled between them.
For the first time in what felt like months… they could breathe.
Sarah sipped from a flask. "You know, I don't even remember what real stars look like anymore."
"Me neither," Ethan muttered. "The sky's always red or black here. No moons. Just... this endless dread."
Lilith didn't answer right away. Her eyes stayed on the fire, watching how it danced and split like memory.
Sarah glanced at her. "You okay?"
Lilith let the silence stretch. Then: "The crown didn't want one of us. It chose all of us. But back there, for a moment—I almost took it alone."
Her voice was quiet.
Ethan leaned back on his elbows. "I almost let mine win too. That version of me? It had everything. Armies. Obedience. Peace."
"Without love," Sarah said softly. "Without us."
They all went quiet again.
Sarah turned toward Lilith. "Can I ask you something? Real talk."
Lilith raised a brow. "Shoot."
"Before all this… did you ever think you'd be the one fighting for a throne? Let alone Hell's?"
Lilith laughed softly. It was a bitter sound—but real.
"I used to cry if someone raised their voice. I was soft. Too soft. Azeriel knew that. That's why he chose me to break."
She looked up at them. "But I didn't break. I burned."
Ethan grinned. "Damn right you did."
Sarah smiled, then pulled her hair back to reveal a small rune behind her ear—barely visible. "Wanna see something?"
Lilith leaned forward. The rune glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"It lets me hear thoughts. Not all the time—just when someone's heart beats louder than their words."
Lilith stared. "And you never used it on me?"
Sarah shrugged. "Didn't need to. I always knew your heart was loud."
Lilith smiled—genuinely, for once. "Thanks. For staying."
"Always."
Ethan poked the fire. "Y'know… I had a sister once."
That stilled them both.
"She wasn't like me. No powers. Just... kind. Pure. I tried to protect her. But I was young. Dumb. I thought power would keep her safe."
He paused. The flames danced across his face, making him look older than he was.
"She died during a raid by one of the fire tribes. I snapped. That's how my powers awakened."
Sarah put a hand on his arm.
"You blame yourself?" Lilith asked.
"Every day," he said, his voice tight.
Lilith nodded slowly. "Then maybe… this war isn't just about Azeriel. Maybe it's about redemption too."
He met her eyes. "Maybe it's about all of us."
As the night deepened, the fire burned lower. Sarah hummed an old lullaby—something from her coven, half-forgotten and cracked with time. It echoed softly between the stones.
Lilith rested her head on a pack. "You two are the best mistake I've ever made."
Sarah laughed. "We love you too, your fiery majesty."
Ethan smirked. "Just don't let it go to your head. You're still a mess in the mornings."
They laughed—quietly, but it was the kind of laughter that heals.
Somewhere beyond the trees, the wind changed.
The next Spire—The Spire of Remorse—was close. They could feel it calling.
But for now… for one night…
They were just three souls under a broken sky.
Together.