Chapter 78: Chapter 78

AVERY

My eyes fell on Iris. She was still crouched next to Aidan, her fingers clutching his hand.

Devas was behind them like a silent guardian, his face a mixture of exhaustion and hard-won triumph. Rapex had lain down beside them protectively, his mighty wings spread over the group like a living shield.

The war was over.

On the outskirts, Noah worked with the water dwellers to smother the last flames. Jade and the witches cleaned up the magical scars of battle.

A few paces away, Evangeline bent over a wounded man, his trembling hand in hers. Keijou’s healing energy pulsed around them both in threads.

Everyone bore their scars. Each of them had fought.

Not just against Abaddon, but for something bigger than them all.

I inhaled deeply. The first rosy streaks of dawn were beginning to appear in the sky.

Soon the sun would be up and with it the time of mourning, healing, and remembering. But now, in this frail moment between night and day, only one thing mattered.

“We can’t bring our people back to this rubble,” I said quietly.

But Iris heard me, just like Devas. Slowly, they helped Aidan up until he stood beside me.

His breathing was still shallow, but his eyes were clear.

The ground in front of us was torn open, deep furrows crisscrossing the battlefield, as if a giant beast had dragged its claws through the earth. In some places, the ground still glowed faintly.

Charred tufts of grass smoked lazily in the rising morning air. Here and there, charred tree stumps stuck up into the sky like black fingers, silent witnesses of the flames that had engulfed them.

Worst of all, though, were the suits of armor.

When a magical being died, no mortal shell remained behind. As the soul escaped, the body shattered into countless glittering particles, drenched in the play of colors in its aura.

Light as silk dust, they floated away, united with the rising soul, until they dissolved in the ether. Empty suits of armor lay there as if they had simply collapsed, some still half upright, as if waiting for a last command.

But there was nothing left inside them. No life.

No fighting spirit.

Just the silent, metal shell of what had once been a warrior of Antaris.

And just like the warriors, the amicuses disappeared when they died. And too many had sacrificed themselves to save their spiritual friends… Just like Alatus.

There was a smell over everything—a mixture of burnt metal, melted stone, and something indescribable that could only be described as the scent of a finished war.

“They can’t see any of this,” I added, my voice carrying further than I had intended.

Iris’s grip tightened on Aidan’s hand and Devas’s shoulders straightened. And in those eyes—in the eyes of everyone looking at me now—was the same quiet determination.

As soon as the healers had treated all the wounded, we set about rebuilding our home together.

First, we established the new protective barrier, but this time it was more powerful than ever. All the witches and warlocks formed a circle, spoke words I didn’t know, and recited mysterious rhymes.

With each syllable, their auras glowed brighter, merging into a shimmering web of magic that covered Antaris. Evangeline and Iris stood in the center of the circle, tightly embraced.

They shared their strength, sacrificing some of their own energy to make the barrier unbreakable. The air flickered with magic as the protection stretched over us like a golden fabric.

Then Antaris’s reconstruction began.

Stone by stone, wall by wall—we worked together, united by the magic inside us. Our hands glowed as we brought ruins to life.

Colors burst forth, flowers rose up the walls, and the streets glowed with warm light. With every step we took, the trail of destruction disappeared behind us, as if war had never touched it.

When we had finished, Antaris stood there, not only restored, but more beautiful, more alive, and stronger than before.

The walls breathed magic, the windows twinkled like stars, and there was an air of indestructible peace about everything.

But the only thing missing now were our families and friends.

The witches gathered the last of their strength, their hands trembling with effort as they tore open the huge portal. The air crackled, the rift between worlds widened, and then they came.

My gaze chased through the crowd, over faces I knew, faces I’d missed. Inna was the first to charge forward, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground as she ran as fast as she could, throwing herself into Aidan’s arms.

A strangled cry escaped as they clung to each other, as if they couldn’t be close enough. Her fingers dug into his back, her sobs so relieved, so fragile, they took my breath away.

Then I spotted my sister, Ava. She was running toward me, her body bouncing against mine when her arms wrapped around me tight.

“Brother,” she gasped, her voice breaking, and I felt her tears seep onto my shoulder.

She shook like a lost child who had finally found her way home.

Around us was the same picture—a stream of people falling into each other’s arms, holding on to each other as if they could erase the pain of separation. Laughter mingled with tears, hands touching faces as if they had to make sure this was not a dream.

But then I saw the others.

Those who were left empty.

Mothers and fathers whose arms wrapped around nothing because their children were not in front of them. Mates whose hands clenched into fists when they realized their loved ones would never return.

And children wandered with wide, questioning eyes, reaching for hands that no longer existed.

The pain was like a living thing, a weight on all of us. I felt it in my own chest, a dull, searing pressure.

Until Iris’s hand slipped into mine. She stood beside me, silent, but I felt how she carried it.

The way we both wore it.

For them. For all of us.

Bael was the last one to come through the portal. His step was heavy, his gaze sad, and behind him the rift closed with a final, exhausted flash.

The witches collapsed, their strength spent, their faces pale.

This was a new beginning for Antaris, but the first day belonged to the dead.

Ava started to sing.

Her voice broke through the silence, as tender and fragile as the first light after a stormy night. An ancient song, one that our ancestors had sung when they had to say goodbye.

And then, one by one, the other voices joined in.

Tears slid down faces, caught in the corners of quivering mouths, and dripped onto intertwined hands.

The melody grew, carrying our pain, a grief that burned itself into the stones of Antaris.

We stood close to each other. Hands rested on shoulders but not firmly, not demanding, just there.

Embraces lasted longer than necessary, because we all felt that without each other we would break under the weight.

And the song got louder. Voices broke, gasped, were interrupted by sobs.

That was how we mourned. Not in silence. Not in loneliness. But together.

When the last note of the song faded, a moment of silence spread.

Iris’s gaze met mine, so warmly and encouragingly. I felt the weight of the words I was about to speak.

“Beings of Antaris,” I began, my voice carrying across the square, “my brothers and sisters.”

Thousands of eyes turned to me. Teary cheeks. Trembling lips.

But between all the grief, something else flashed…a spark that called for hope.

“The enemy is gone,” I said, each syllable burning into the silence. “Our walls stand again. Our barriers are stronger than ever.”

I paused, letting the words sink in.

“Yet no victory, no wall, no magic in the world can take away the pain you feel today.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the names of the fallen throb in my heart.

“But I swear to you this…We will never forget them. Each name. Every smile. Every soul taken from us.”

My voice firmed. “And we will do everything…so that this pain will never be repeated.”

The last words echoed among Antaris’s ancient stones.

“No evil will ever enter our gates again. Not while a spark of magic burns within us. Not while a single being of Antaris breathes.”

I held out my hand as if I could make our vow tangible.

“This is my promise. To you. To the dead. To our future.”

I hadn’t expected a response, but what happened next left me speechless.

Like a single, living wave, all of Antaris sank to its knees in front of Iris and me.

My mate squeezed my hand so tightly that our bones creaked. Her breath hitched as she held back tears, but I felt her overwhelmed emotions through the invisible bond between us.

This deep, almost painful happiness that choked my throat.

Behind us, Antaris rose in a new splendor.

The voices of our soldiers echoed through the crowds as they spoke of our battle. Every word was a line of paint that outlined our victory.

They spoke of courage stronger than fear. Of sacrifices not made in vain. And of their Queen… my Iris, whose magic had cast the saving spark into our darkness.

As I looked out over the crowd, the force of their feelings hit me. The same unshakeable love burned in every pair of eyes—for our people, for our homeland, and for us.

These looks were worth more than a thousand words.

Not only were they entrusting us with their lives, they were also entrusting us with their deaths.

Iris’s chest shook next to me. I could feel how she held each of these souls close to her heart, how she bore each loss as a personal wound.

The tears she didn’t want to cry stood as glistening lines in her eyelashes.

We hadn’t been able to save everyone.

But in this moment, I knew… These people knew that we would protect each and every one of them to our last breath.

We would have given our lives for theirs without hesitation.

The morning sun fell on Antaris. I knew this was not an end, but a beginning, as tangible as the warm light and as certain as the future we would create.