Alexia surrendered to her fate, knowing she couldn’t escape it. This would be her final day, her last moments.

The massive silver-eyed ogre had her pinned against the cave wall, its body radiating heat and oppressive strength. Through her closed eyelids, she saw the silver glow of its eyes mingling with the flickering orange of Maleon’s flames. The humidity was suffocating, as if the very air had turned against her, and sorrow welled up in her chest. Knowing the end was near wasn’t the same as accepting it. She wouldn’t live to see the moon rise tonight, nor the endless chase of it following the sun. She felt a kinship with those two distant lovers, forever apart, destined never to meet.

Alexia sought peace in her thoughts, trying to accept her impending death. If she could just believe that she had done her best, that Leverith would welcome her into Paradise, maybe she could find solace. She imagined her grandfather, Sir Gabriel, the Kavovan refugee turned Azureknight, waiting for her. But doubt gnawed at her. What if there was nothing after death? No reunion, no peace—just bone and dust, fading away into nothingness.

Her thoughts only deepened her despair. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. All her dreams—grand, beautiful dreams—of making a difference in this broken world, of reforging peace, of finding love and being loved in return, were slipping away. She wasn’t meant to die here, in a dark cave, fighting a monster. Not like this.

No. She refused.

Pain shot through her fractured collarbone as she twisted and thrashed against the ogre’s grip. She kicked, trying to find any weak point in the beast’s hulking form. Opening her eyes, she glared at the ogre, determined not to be defeated.

But it was futile. She was no match for the creature’s brute strength. A powerless girl, her magic sealed away by the gold bracelet. Yet something stirred inside her—a defiance that refused to be silenced. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.

“Let me down!” she roared.

The ogre, without warning, lowered her to the ground and released its hold. Alexia stumbled, too shocked to react at first. The beast didn’t tear her apart, didn’t crush her like she’d expected. Instead, it stepped away, disappearing into the shadows with surprising speed, its glowing silver eyes tracking Maleon.

Maleon’s flames lashed after the ogre, but they were futile. The beast’s fireproof hide shrugged off the magical onslaught as it circled the cave, its glowing eyes locked onto the wizard, staying a step ahead of Maleon’s every move. At last, it charged, and Maleon let out a roar, his flames surging in a final desperate attack. For a brief moment, hope flickered. But the ogre had its own magic. A beam of silvery light burst forth, cutting through Maleon’s fire, snuffing it out as though it had never existed.

“Zamael’s Hells!” Maleon cursed.

The ogre slammed Maleon into the wall. The wizard gasped as the creature pummeled him, each brutal punch reverberating through the cave with sickening cracks. The ogre, it seemed, was enjoying itself, savoring the slow, deliberate destruction of its prey.

Nothing about this made sense. Ogres weren’t supposed to be this intelligent, this calculated. They were mindless, black-eyed beasts driven by rage and misogyny, not cunning. And yet here was one with silver eyes that wielded magic as easily as it dealt death.

Alexia snapped back to reality, her eyes falling to the golden bracelet on her wrist. There was no breaking it. The lock, made of meladonite, was impervious to all but its key or another meladonite weapon. Her magic was gone, but all wasn't lost.

Thank Eron Bluerose, Alexia was not defenseless without her sorcery. She retrieved Sunfire, her ruby-crested, flame-enchanted silver rapier. She was used to wielding it in her left hand, but with her collarbone fractured, she swapped it to her right. The transition was seamless, her hands knowing no differences in coordination having trained for years under her father. Sunfire’s flames would be enough. One thrust to the ogre’s magic eye, and this nightmare would end.

She winced as she heard another one of Maleon’s bones snap. Dark thoughts whispered in her mind—let him die. He’d have left her to die.

But Alexia couldn’t. She wasn’t that person, couldn’t let him die even if he would have let her. The world would never change if everyone only looked out for themselves and clung to unending grudges. His strangled cries tore at her, forcing her to act.

Alexia raised Sunfire and drove it into the ogre’s glowing eye.

The creature let out a deafening scream, releasing Maleon as it staggered back. Alexia pushed harder, driving the blade deeper until the ogre’s skull gave way, and flames erupted from the wound. The silver glow in its other eye flickered and died, reverting to the dull black eyes of its kind.

The ogre collapsed, flames spouting from its eye. Alexia fell back, unable to free Sunfire from the creature’s skull. The beast’s massive body crashed to the ground, plunging the cave into eerie silence. Only the dying glow of the flames leaking from the ogre’s head provided the briefest flicker of light.

Alexia’s breath hitched. “Please, Leverith, let it be here,” she muttered, her hands trembling as she searched the ogre’s leather harness. Her fingers fumbled, hope and dread warring in her chest. Each empty pocket deepened her despair. Maleon’s shallow wheezes warned of a punctured lung and a quickly fading life.

The light vanished, plunging her into darkness. At last, her fingers found cold metal. She felt her way through the bracelet’s clasp, her arm burning from her fractured collarbone, until she heard the faint click. The golden bracelet fell to the stone floor with a clatter, and her heart surged with relief. A sob of joy escaped her, hope blooming once more in her chest.

Summoning Norali’s divine energy felt like reuniting with an old friend. After the dread of being cut off from her power, the connection brought an overwhelming sense of peace. Alexia gathered Norali’s hope and willed herself to imagine a ray of light banishing the darkness. The divine energy filtered through Sunfire.

Light flared above her, clinging to the ceiling like a newborn sun, illuminating the destruction wrought by their battle. The carnage was brutal—Maleon and Timmeck lay unmoving, their bodies broken, barely clinging to life.

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Alexia retrieved Aurora and clutched it tighter, drawing strength from Leverith. She tried to give herself the same compassion she offered everyone else, imagining what Leverith would say to her instead of the self-judgment and doubt Alexia had given herself. Her choices today were born of love. She separated intention from outcome and reminded herself that she did her best each step of the way in situations that were impossibly hard. She let the self-judgments pass and chose to love herself.

Leverith’s energy flowed through her staff, its moon-blue light bathing her body in warmth. As the divine magic mended her broken collarbone, sealed bruises, and soothed away her pain, she felt her self-love blossom as she became one with Leverith. She was whole again.

With her own vitality restored, Alexia inspected Timmeck’s wounds. The Seeker of Sin knight lay crumpled in his armor. Fear twisted her gut as she removed his helm and placed a hand on his forehead, feeling the heat of life still within him. His injuries were severe—head trauma from being thrown into the rock wall. If not for the helmet, he’d certainly be dead.

She recalled each section of the brain and visualized how it ought to function. Leverith’s spirit poured through her as she healed him, drawing upon her affection for the knight who always stood up for her and risked his own life to aid her. He was more than just a protector now. He was a friend. Leverith knew Alexia didn’t have many of those.

Timmeck stirred, his eye fluttering open. A sleepy grin spread across his face. “Is this Paradise?” he murmured.

Alexia chuckled. “Not quite,” she replied, lowering Aurora. Their reciprocal bond was growing strong, and she felt the love she imagined she would have for an uncle. Her lips rose into a rare genuine smile. “Thank you, Timmeck. I wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“It’s my honor to protect you,” Timmeck said, rising to his feet. “Though, I owe you my life—again.”

Alexia wasn’t sure how to express the warmth she felt toward him. Being shy and self-conscious and trying to speak to people, even if you cared for them, was like trying to describe a flower when you were incapable of seeing color. She nodded in gratitude and turned her attention to Maleon.

The Stonebreaker was slumped against the cave wall, his body a broken mess. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, his ribs shattered, one arm hanging limp with compartment syndrome, a clavicle protruding through his robes, his face bruised beyond recognition. Blood pooled around him, and his wheezing breaths grew weaker with each passing moment.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hilt of Sunfire. Maleon had left her for dead. He’d done nothing to save her, fully aware that his inaction would seal her fate. The thought twisted her stomach with nausea. She could let him die. Perhaps she should.

But she couldn’t. Alexia closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, forcing herself to remember who Maleon had once been—the hero who saved thousands. Even now, after everything, she believed in the possibility of redemption.

She released her grip on the rapier and raised her staff toward him. “Remember this,” she said quietly. “Leverith lives in all of us. Even you, Maleon Stonebreaker.”

His eyes, once filled with arrogance, now held only desperation. He nodded, too weak to speak.

With a deep breath, Alexia forced herself to find love for him in her heart. It wasn’t easy, but she thought of the man he had once been—the hero who saved her mentor and reshaped her life, and the hero he could become again. She focused on Maleon’s extensive injuries, beginning with his punctured lungs and broken bones. Slowly, his breathing steadied, the protruding bones settled back into place, the internal bleeding sealed, and the bruises on his face faded. When it was done, he stood before her, whole once more.

To her surprise, Maleon didn’t recite all her misjudgments or take credit for their victory. Instead, he bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low.

Alexia blinked, startled by the sincerity

. She wanted to believe that her healing had restored more than just his body—that it had sparked a change within him. But part of her remained cautious, unwilling to trust the man who had abandoned her.

“I was wrong about you,” he said.

“No, you called every wrong move I made, Maleon. You were more right about me than I was.”

“No,” Maleon insisted, his voice firm. “I was wrong. I am yours to command.” He extended his hand.

She hesitated, questioning his sudden change. I must nurture the seeds of peace if they are to bloom into the flowers of love, Alexia thought, before taking his hand in her own.

“Leverith resides in you,” Maleon said softly.

“And in you,” Alexia replied, her eyes downcast. She wasn’t ready to face him fully yet—but maybe, someday, she would be.

Alexia stepped away from Maleon, relieved to escape the awkwardness. She surveilled the cavern, her heart sinking with each pile of human bones she found on the floor. Piles of weapons, armor, and glittering jewels lay in one corner, taken from the surrounding villages.

She approached the remains of the first ogre she had slain and inspected his meal. The bones were small enough to belong to a child.

Alexia lowered her head, tears sliding down her cheeks in silence. Her hair hung like a curtain of dark gold around her face, glinting in the light of her conjured sun. She wanted to hide inside that curtain.

A voice echoed in her mind, cold and accusatory. You were made for war, not peace. To destroy, not restore. To sunder lives, not save them. Her thoughts snapped back to Vulcan, to the stench of burning bodies. Was she really any better than these monsters? Beneath the mask of heroism, was she just a killer?

She sat on the ground, tears blurring her vision, unable to look away from the child’s remains. Behind her, Maleon and Timmeck discussed the loot, their casual voices deepening her sorrow. Her sadness felt like a vast ocean, threatening to drown her. She closed her eyes, trying in vain to block out their voices, the screams of dying soldiers, and the crunching of children’s bones between ogre teeth.

She tried to use sunny thinking, to see the positive in having vanquished these monsters. The thoughts felt unreal, no more the sun than the magic orb she cast upon the ceiling.

Then, from somewhere deep within the cave, a faint sound reached her like a drop of water that landed in an ocean of sadness and sent ripples of hope toward the shore. Alexia moved deeper into the cavern, her staff held aloft as rays of Norali’s hopeful light streamed from Aurora’s tip.

The cavern expanded as she ventured further, its ceiling rising higher and higher, from ten feet to fifty. Multicolored stalactites hung from above, their beauty lost on Alexia, who felt too much hatred for this place to see anything lovely.

Hatred is the most toxic poison when it is given the chance to fester. Alexia knew that and tried her best to never let hatred in for more than a few moments. Alas, once felt, hatred is hard to hinder. For hatred is the tool of Zamael—the vile shepherd down the path of corruption. It blinds those it touches by restricting one’s ability to see points of view beyond their own hate-limited lens. Hate poisons perception so that the best parts of a thing are wholly shrouded by the perceived flaws. You can only see the geode’s austere exterior and not the beauty within, only the oyster and not the pearl, only the bitter veteran and not the noble hero that once was. Hatred is the antagonist of love, which lets you see past any imperfection and find the good within anyone and anything. Alexia did not see the cave’s beauty. Beauty is the first thing lost to hatred because hatred is an envious monster that only sees ugliness. All she could see was the darkness and despair of the deep earth, the dark cocoon and not the butterfly within.

Yet the further she went, the more that hatred began to wane. The once-faint sound grew clearer—voices, hushed and fearful. Her heart raced with excitement. She had never been so relieved to hear someone crying.