The wind tore across the night like a thousand unseen blades.
Catherine flew through the storm, four great wings slicing the black clouds, the glow of her divinity cutting swaths through thunder and shadow.
The air itself shuddered beneath her — every beat of her wings cracked with light, every surge of mana left streaks of burning gold behind her.
"Aros!" she roared into the endless dark, voice breaking like lightning against the sky. "Show yourself, coward! Where is he?!"
Her cry rippled through the storm. No answer ca. Only the distant groan of the dungeon’s chains — the ancient floating fortress that hung over the lands like a broken star.
Her eyes blazed brighter. "You can’t hide from !" she scread again. "Give him back!"
Each word cost her more than she’d admit. Her wings trembled — divine feathers molting into sparks as her mana drained.
Maintaining her full celestial form consud life and power alike; even she could not sustain it forever. She could feel the weight of her own exhaustion crawling through her veins, cold and rciless.
Still, she flew.
Beneath her, the land blurred — forests reduced to streaks of black and silver, rivers reflecting her glow like mirrors of molten glass.
Every breath she took scorched her throat. Every flap of her wings sent a quake through her body.
And with every passing second, her rage frayed into sothing smaller, more fragile.
It began as fury — the divine wrath of a seraph whose light had been defied. But now, as the minutes stretched into aching eternity, her anger lted into fear.
The kind she hadn’t known in centuries.
"Aiden..." she whispered this ti, the word trembling, breaking. "Please... answer ."
There was no response. Only the wind’s howl.
She thought of him then — not as the reckless boy who defied orders, nor as the mortal who had sohow survived a monster’s claws — but as he was in that one quiet mont months ago, sitting by the servents quarter, hands bruised, eyes golden and tired.
He had smiled at her then, a small, infuriating smile that said he knew sothing she didn’t.
She had hated it then.
She would give anything to see it now.
Her wings faltered. Her breath hitched.
She whispered again, voice softer than the wind. "Aiden... please..."
The clouds parted.
And she felt it — faint, fragile, but real. His aura. That warm, flickering pulse she had morized without aning to. It was like finding a single heartbeat in an ocean of silence.
Her eyes widened. "There," she breathed. "Wessex."
The ancient valley stretched below her — a land of dead grass and rusted towers, where the remains of the Sky Dungeon lood above, hanging by the will of forgotten gods.
The air shimred with residue mana, thick and heavy. It slled of iron and stormfire.
She folded her wings close, diving through the rain in a streak of gold.
Lightning split the clouds. The wind scread.
And then she saw him.
Aiden stood alone beneath the shadow of the hanging dungeon, his figure small but unbroken, clothes torn, blood dark against his throat. He was looking up at her, eyes wide — not in fear, but disbelief. As if even he hadn’t expected her to co.
For an instant, ti stopped. The storm quieted, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Then she flew down from the sky like a star.
Her landing cracked the earth, waves of heat rolling from her form as her knees hit the ground. Dust rose around her in gold and black motes.
Her voice broke as she stumbled forward. "Aiden!"
He turned. "Catherine—?"
Before he could say more, she was upon him — wings folding around them both, an armor of light. Her arms caught him, pulled him close with a desperate strength that trembled with relief and exhaustion.
Her divine heat seared through his torn clothes; her breath hitched against his shoulder.
"You’re here," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You’re— you’re alive."
Aiden blinked, breath catching as her tears — molten and bright — splashed onto his neck. For a heartbeat, he forgot about the dungeon above, about Aros’s shadow still looming in his mory. All he felt was her — the trembling goddess who had crossed the sky to find him.
"I’m here," he murmured. "It’s okay. I’m fine."
He wasn’t. Not really. His wounds burned, and the mark Aros had left still pulsed like a brand. But the sight of her — wild, beautiful, terrified — made lying feel almost sacred.
She clung tighter. Her wings dimd, feathers falling away in golden cinders.
Her mana was gone.
The glow of her form flickered once, twice, and then broke entirely — the radiance receding into skin, the celestial light folding back into the mortal. Her scales shimred, turning to pale naked skin that caught the moonlight.
Her whole clotheless body trembled with the aftershock. She sagged against him, breath shallow.
Aiden caught her instinctively, arms circling her before she fell. "Hey—hey, easy," he said softly. "You’ve pushed too far."
She smiled weakly against his chest. "You’re... safe."
"Barely," he tried to joke. It ca out hoarse.
The two sank to their knees in the dirt. Catherine’s wings — now nothing more than faint outlines of light — folded limply behind her.
Her forehead rested against his collarbone. He could feel her heartbeat, fast and uneven, like a drum trying to outpace the storm.
He ran a hand through her golden hair, damp with cloud rain. "You shouldn’t have....," he murmured.
Her reply was muffled. "You think I could stay away?"
He had no answer to that.
For a while, they stayed like that — two silhouettes against the dying storm. The dungeon above them pulsed faintly, a heartbeat of the old world. Aiden looked up at it, the light reflecting in his eyes.
Catherine followed his gaze. "Is he still here?" she whispered. "...that abomination."
He nodded. "Aros went back. Whatever he wanted... it’s up there."
She pulled back slightly, eyes searching his face. "Why?" she demanded, voice raw. "Why would he take you here? What does he want with you?"
He hesitated. The truth pressed against his throat like a blade. He thought of the words Aros had whispered — War. Destruction. Covenant.
He thought of the contract forming in fire and blood, of the impossible bargain that now bound his fate to sothing ancient and cruel.
But he only said, "I don’t know. Not yet."
Catherine’s brow furrowed, eyes glistening with worry and fury alike. "There’s no need to know, as this will never happen again....Never."
He gave a faint smile. "Haha...You should rest first."
She shook her head. "Not until I know you’re safe."
"You already do," he said softly.
Her eyes lingered on him — as if morizing every line of his face, every scar. She reached up, brushing a hand along his jaw, her touch trembling. "You always say that," she murmured, almost to herself. "Every ti, you say you’re fine, and every ti you’re bleeding sowhere I can’t reach." She voiced pressing her soft chest on his.
He caught her hand and held it against his cheek. "Maybe I’m getting used to it."
"Don’t," she said, her voice suddenly fierce. "Don’t get used to ...this."
A pause. Rain whispered around them.
He lowered his gaze. "I won’t."
Her hand lingered against his face, and sothing in her broke then — a floodgate she’d kept sealed through battle after battle. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, eyes closing. "I thought I’d lost you," she whispered. "When I saw the fire over the guild... when the link went silent... I—"
He shushed her gently. "You didn’t."
"I should’ve co sooner."
"You couldn’t have known."
She drew a trembling breath. "You don’t understand. I felt it, Aiden.
The bond—your aura—it was fading. I thought... I thought the gods had finally taken you."
The words hit him harder than he expected. There was sothing in her tone — not divine fury, but human grief.
He wanted to tell her the truth, that it had been close, that if Aros hadn’t seen so use in him he’d be nothing but ash now. But he couldn’t make her carry that too.
So he just said, quietly, "You found . That’s what matters."
She pulled back, eyes eting his — twin suns in the stormlight. Then, without another word, she kissed him.
It wasn’t the kiss of a goddess. It was a human thing — raw, shaking, soaked in rain and salt and the ache of almost losing everything. He froze for half a breath before responding, his hand rising to cradle the back of her neck.
When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest again, breathing unevenly.
"I’m glad you’re alive," she said.
He smiled faintly. "That makes two of us."
Catherine’s fingers tightened slightly on his sleeve. "We can’t stay here," she murmured. "If Aros returns—"
"He won’t," Aiden said quickly. "Not tonight."
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"
He hesitated. The mark on his neck throbbed faintly — not pain, but sothing deeper, a pulse that answered to another will. He forced a smile. "Call it intuition."
She didn’t believe him, but she was too drained to argue. She sighed softly, closing her eyes. "I’ll trust you. For now."
He glanced at her, sothing unreadable in his expression. "That’s dangerous."
"So are you," she murmured, pushing him to the grassy ground. As atlas saw her luscious pale naked body, his back on the ground.
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