felt like drowning, the whiteness in Siltheres's realm pulling me down, chocking me until I couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. My mind and body and soul had gone numb until I could do and feel nothing but the hollowness growing in me.

The Book of Astazan slipped from my grip, leather and paper hitting the floor with a thud that echoed in the emptiness all around us. In my soul.

And then, I lifted my stare to the Dragon of the Gods, not truly knowing what to expect in his eyes. And when those chartreuse orbs met with mine, when I saw what veiled them, I thought the pain was worse than having claws plunging in my heart.

Because Siltheres stood silent and still, silver streaks mutely sliding down his scaly face, dripping like rain and pooling around his claws.

He was crying.

Something inside of me shattered. That bond binding me to him—that vow he swore to protect me until the last breath—was trembling. But not because of weakness or regret.

There was pain. Clear, stark pain in his soul and mind that wrapped around my throat and lungs so tight my ribs might have cracked from the sheer weight pressing on my heart.

My muscles were stiff, my senses vague as I walked to him, and it was until I was standing underneath his head, my frame so small and frail next to his glorious size, that my hands clutched him, nails digging so hard they could have as well dented his scales.

The fire in the crevice at the top of his neck hissed and trashed, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling how his muscles shifted as he lowered, wings closing around me as though trying to shield me from that fated end.

And as I stood there, witnessing the most powerful creature of the Five crying for me, I realized that not even thousand years of living would sum up as much love for him as what he held in his soul for me. And I wondered if during all those years asleep, if even during the millennia before I was even born, he had loved me. Had loved the woman standing next to him that bore the name of the Goddess who created and loved him so much until she made him the holiest of all creations.

I had known him so little, saw him so limited times, but there was a part of me that indeed cared, that lit up every time I was in his presence, as though my soul had known his for countless lives before this one.

I fell to my knees, arms still around him. Siltheres bent down until he pressed his brow against mine, warm breaths blowing against my face. And then I remembered something that made my heart skip beats.

"You once said," I whispered, voice breaking so hard I could merely hear myself, "that you were vowed to my protection until the last breath. If I die, will you—"

I didn't finish, didn't have the strength to utter that word. But he nodded. And my heart shattered.

No.

I wanted to scream, to yell until I had no more strength or voice left to do so. He didn't deserve this. Didn't have to carry this burden with me. I wasn't worth his soul, nor his tears.

I cried, and through blurry eyes, stared at him. There was no hate, no remorse on his face as he stared back.

'I would rather die a thousand times than live a single day, knowing thy heart beats no more.'

The tears wouldn't stop and I didn't fight them. Instead, I wrapped my arms even tighter—so tight my muscles groaned in pain. I took in a wavering breath as I spoke again, heart breaking even more until it was no longer than grinded dust in my chest, "How will I tell him?"

My father.

"How will I tell all of them?"

My friends and family. The people I'd come to care and love so much I couldn't imagine my life without them.

Father's agonized face flashed in my mind, wrecking my soul.

I cried harder.

I didn't know how long I knelt there, sobbing until I could breathe no more, Siltheres's wings still cloaking me and paws around my back before darkness stole me and I fell asleep.

Sleep left me two hours later, body aching and mind so numb I didn't move or speak for a good few minutes, only leaning against Siltheres's powerful structure.

Everything from last night: the ball, the speech, Leon's case, and the cursed prophecy weighed on my shoulders so heavily it felt like carrying the heaviness of the skies on them.

When I finally turned my eyes to my dragon, his eyes were sharp and keen on the whiteness enveloping us, watching several scenes at once. I only focused on the gathered meeting where the King and Court Leader were talking to the Second Crowns of both Arelesia and Eziara.

Father and Ramos. My heart sank so hard, my guts churned so hard I wanted nothing but to curl and vomit last night's dinner.

How will I tell them?

Siltheres shifted as he caught me staring until his body flexed and his head was in my lap, staring at me. I ran my fingers down his scales, stroking gently behind his ears. He closed his eyes and I felt all of him reverberate as a soft growl emerged from his throat, tail gently swaying in delight. I smiled.

He kept like this for a few more heartbeats before he spoke in my mind, 'The first gathering is almost done. Maids will soon be looking for thee to get thee ready.'

He moved slightly, lifting his head from my lap to rest on my shoulder. 'Thou should leave; enjoy the warmth of the sunlight before duties claim thee.'

I stared at him, a part of me refusing to leave his side, not ready to face everyone. But he said, 'This beast will be here waiting for thee.'

I kissed him on the snout as he once again dragged his wings to wrap me. I felt the bit of his magic entwining with mine before I drifted in space and time, vanishing in a mist of golden stardust.

The sun had already risen rather high as my powers forged me back, landing me on both my feet in one side of our massive gardens. Flowers were in full bloom despite the season, nourished by magic and glowing with a distinct sort of beauty.

I had observed that beauty with awe before, had regarded those fat blossoms with admiration as they washed acres after acres with colors, their scent, heavenly, wafting and merging with the gentle zephyrs.

Now, they were no more but watery splashes of colors in front of me, contrasting hard with the black I wore from head to toe. I hadn't change, not even bothering how my cloak trailed behind like a shadow of Death as I walked down one familiar path, wishing the chirping of birds could fill the hollowness eating me.

The flat cobbles dug in the soil were enough to guide me, even as I knew the road like the back of my hand. And as I walked a bit more, an archway forged of glass met my eyes.

It was a familiar sight, how the glass reflected light, glowing like arched fire a few feet before a massive weeping willow. I headed for the tree, only once stopping in the middle of a flower field, plucking out a few blooms of osiria roses.

Carter had first showed me this type of roses one afternoon as we walked together down the northern side of this garden. And it had taken me one glance at those velvety, cherry red bourgeon with a captivating white—almost silver—reverse on the outside petals to prefer them over the hundred sorts of plants growing all around.

I crossed the archway that seemed to shine even brighter as I stepped underneath it, light reflecting so hard it momentarily blinded me, before I reached the enormous roots of the willow. And next to those roots were crafted two mighty dragons of glass meant to represent Siltheres, each as big as a full grown wolf.

And between them, gathered in a half-circle, were the statues representing the Gods. They would have been identical to the ones we'd seen back in Arelesia during our quest if it weren't for the sheer difference of size, and that these were of glimmering glass. In front of each deity was a flame, reflecting its owner's essence, similar enough to what we'd also seen in Deneyosis, prior to finding the well from where surged the water nourishing Ardoria.

All the structures rested underneath the shade of intertwined, low branches of jasmines, but they still glowed with an ethereal sort of power.

I had come countless times to this temple, accompanied by Carter and Leon and Mayra, sometimes all together, sometimes in a pair. I had even come with Father, lit a few candles and offered flowers as a gift of life. I'd never come alone, not until now.

I sat in front of the temple--even if small, it was the holiest and oldest one built in favor of the Great Five, made by Leander himself. Some legends even said the structures and archway were forged from the godly ichor flowing in his veins.

I tossed the flowers I snatched, not caring to grow them with my own earth elemental like traditions ordered. I didn't even pray or hum the chants I'd learnt from my family. I just stared. Stared long and hard at the glass statues each a meter long with nothing in my soul.

I didn’t cry like I had done in Siltheres's comfort. Didn't shed a single tear. They had decided for this fate far before forging my very bones. And maybe it was fair.

Maybe death was the cost of all those years I lived on Earth, safe and unbothered and completely oblivious to this world and my duties.

Perhaps Perdiel was right after all.

Perhaps I wasn't worthy of my crown unless I fought for it. And I would fight, I realized, to the last breathe and drop of strength. I would defend this world and everyone in it and would come out victorious. Not even the Dark God would be able to stand between me and the oath I made last night.

They deserved it, those people laughing and smiling and cheering the Armedes name, to know peace after eight thousand years of terror and death.

I let out a breath, longing back until my back was pressed against the low of the tree bark, knees bend and tucked under my arms, wrist lazily resting atop the other. I stared again at those statues, at the fires glimmering in front of them; Aether's, like always, the brightest one.

The Queen who can speak… I was their chosen and elite. I was the creature they forged with five blessings even when it had been an oath between them to never create a soul so perfect to be worthy of all the gifts. I was the one with so much strength and power I could invoke them, whisper a prayer or a need and had them answering it. But it only went this far, in things and things.

Power had a price. And this price was my head.

I closed my eyes, shoulders sagging as I listened to the gentle rush of air between the willow's heavy-coated branches, leaves singing as they swayed with the breeze.

I always loved this tree. Every time I came and sat in front of those flames, silent engulfing me and my companion as we prayed, I thought I heard it sing.

This didn't change this time.

It wasn't a lively song but merely a lullaby, with no words or pattern. It just shifted with the sways of winds, whispering and beckoning me to a different world far, far away. To a world forged between the stars where there were no sorrow, no pain, and no grief.

There were legends about this willow; about how odd and unusual it was. Indeed, its leaves were not green, but a glowing shade of silver that seemed, some days, to veer to pearl white under midday sun. And through the thick, dark bark, I could make slight trails of light running through it like veins, nourishing it.

Some of the legends said this place, this very spot of the temple, was where Leander was murdered by his unknown nephew while he walked with his wife under a moonless sky. And when Laydana—the First Queen—beheld her husband's unmoving form right in front of the statues, she cried so hard and so bitterly the ground had shaken beneath her feet.

She'd suffered as the bond between her and her husband, the one that tied their symbols and souls together, shattered. It was said that the nature around her felt the pain, that the Gods themselves grieved her loss. And as she sang for her husband one last time a promise about a better world, her soul left her body and her body decayed to cinders. And from those cinders, the weeping willow was born, still humming of peace.

And then, I wondered about my father. He hid it from the world in its whole, but even as he smiled, even when his eyes glinted with joy, there was something broken in his soul. A silent sort of hollowness.I knew without asking just how much the ache in his heart tortured him at the loss of his wife, his perfect match.

Soon, he would lose a daughter, too.

I opened my eyes, staring at the glass that seemed to breathe the fire shining before it, and I begged for the first time that day. Begged so hard my body and soul shook. Begged that they would be merciful on him, that they would protect his heart from more pain. And for the first time, I wished the fear I once carried was real. Wished that my parents left because they hated me. Because then, he wouldn't suffer and cry as my lifeless body would lie in his arms.

I stood, only to kneel against the statues, removing the petals from the five blooms I'd chosen, and feeding them to those fire.

There was a solution to this war.

And if it meant saving them, if it meant offering the people I loved a better world and healing their wounds, I would die. I would die a thousand times on that battlefield again and again and again. For them. For the love they gave me, for teaching me to see beauty in life, and for helping me stand even when they were bleeding.

Yes, for them, I would die.

I was about to stand and leave when a familiar musk filled the air and then, I felt him behind me. I didn't turn as I felt him kneel before he had one arm wrapped around my waist, the other tucking one strand of hair behind my left ear. My heart beat faster, blood rushing in my veins with such intensity it hurt. And when he whispered, his breath warmly blowing against the side of my cheek, I didn't feel so broken. Didn't feel lost in the darkness of my mind.

"You should have told me you'd be here. I would have joined you.''

Because he never let me come here alone, even when he would see me taking this way on my own. He always offered his company, and today, I needed it the most.

"How did it go?" I asked, trying so damn hard to keep my voice from shaking. "Left any other weeping woman in your wake?"

I heard him huff a laugh. "You," Leon said, "did tell me to refuse to marry her.''

"I did give you the choice, though.'' I was smiling. How I didn't know. But he was here, and in a way, was pulling me out of the ocean I was sinking in.

He laughed, and then I felt him lean back, putting distance between us. "What is wrong?'' he asked, hand tugging mine as he pulled me up and turning me so I could stare at him.

I wanted to lie, to tell him everything was alright. But his eyes—heaven, those mesmerizing eyes—looked straight into my own. And he knew I was broken in the inside.

He repeated his question, hands gently brushing my cheeks as tears streamed, one behind the other. I didn't know when I started shedding them, and didn't try fighting them.

I used the bit of skin contact to show him everything that happened after he left through my magic, too drained to build a pure mental bridge. I allowed him to feel it all, the shock and pain that consumed me. And when I opened my eyes again, I saw him through blurry vision.

His face was pale and ashen, eyes wide and aura silent. His fingers stopped moving against my skin and I could feel his thought growing, could feel the fire igniting beneath his fingertips.

"No," he whispered, voice broken. It was pain, genuine pain and heartache that laced his word. "No," he repeated, hands trembling as he still held my face.

"There is no other option if we wish to win this war," I said, still staring at him, at that sorrowful face.

"No." Again. His body was shacking completely as he drew his hands back. "There must be another way."

His voice grew louder, fire flaring in his soul. They were anger and denial and pain that lit this fire.

"You saw the prophecy. All those powers have a price, and you know—"

"There must be another way." His voice was hard as he repeated those same words. Red was glinting in his eyes, a ring merging with the blueness of them. It wasn't just anger. Or pain. It was devastation.

I took in shaky breaths, tired and weary and not knowing how to silence the pain hissing in my heart. I said slowly, "There will be war. And we will all fight, and I will be the one who dies. It is only fair."

"It is not." He closed the space between us, his arms holding me so tight against him I could feel how his chest heaved. He lowered his head until I could stare at his eyes, and he was close, so close, we shared breath.

"Why?" I mumbled, and I feared what he might answer. And I knew that no matter what left his lips, it would break me.

"Because''—his arms tightened even more—''my heart will not survive, knowing you are not in my life anymore. I wouldn't survive without you."

He lifted one hand to cup the side of my face, his face leaning closer until I could feel the tip of his nose brushing against mine.

"I love you."