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VAELITH

S moke lingers over Orthani’s rooftops as I walk through what remains of the central courtyard.

The sunlight of early morning paints the fractured pillars and scattered rubble in a hazy glow.

A day ago, this place raged with spells and steel, Red Purna forces clashing against our battered defenders.

Now it’s eerily quiet, only the distant echoes of laborers moving debris and soldiers tending the wounded.

I breathe in the tang of ash and wonder if the city can survive this upheaval.

Stepping around a toppled statue, I survey the remnants of Orthani’s proud architecture.

Chunks of stone litter the marble floor, and the once-shining fountain in the center has been partially collapsed, its water stained dark.

My pulse steadies as I try to focus on the tasks ahead.

We might have driven away the Red Purna, but in their retreat, they’ve left behind confusion and battered morale.

And in that void stands Selene—purna, once hunted, now stepping into a role none could have predicted.

I round a corner, spotting a cluster of nobles conferring at the edge of the courtyard.

Their finery is smeared with soot, and their eyes betray wariness.

They glance at me, then quickly look aside, unsure whether to greet or challenge me.

Orthani’s traditions have been shaken to the core: I, Vaelith Zothani, am a commander who sided with a purna woman, openly defying centuries of custom.

The city’s old order stands on trembling ground.

I continue past them. I have this urge to bark orders, reassert the disciplined approach I once thrived on.

But something in me has shifted. I no longer see every noble as an ally or every purna as an enemy.

Selene changed that. She not only saved Ai and Orthani from total devastation, she also made me realize that the city’s cruelty can be reshaped.

Her unstoppable force has become the pivot around which we all move.

At the courtyard’s far end, a handful of soldiers carry crates of supplies for the wounded.

Eryx stands among them, shirt torn, sporting a bandage across one bicep.

He’s coordinating distribution, that roguish grin half-hidden by fatigue.

When he catches my eye, he inclines his head in casual greeting.

We are an odd alliance—once I might have arrested him on sight for his rumored ties to underground rebels.

Yet now we share a singular devotion: her.

And we share a battered city that needs rebuilding.

I approach him, speaking quietly. “How are the wounded? Do we have enough healers?”

He hands a soldier a crate, then turns to me.

“We’re short, but some of the purna who surrendered are helping.

The ones who realized they lost more than they gained by assaulting Orthani.

” He runs a cloth across his forehead, clearing ash from his temples.

“Selene is inside, in the grand hall, meeting with Zareth. They’re checking on Ai and sorting out the captured Red Purna leaders. She asked for you when you return.”

My chest tightens, recalling how Selene led us all through the siege, weaving our strengths to repel the Red Purna without devolving into a bloodbath. “I’ll find her.” I nod, turning toward a wide arch that leads deeper into the estate. Eryx’s voice stops me halfway.

“You should be careful,” he says softly, picking at the edge of his bandage. “Plenty of nobles still want purna exterminated. If they suspect you intend to empower her further, they might push for an immediate crackdown.”

A wry twist tugs my mouth. “Let them try. We’ve proven Orthani can’t stand alone if it alienates all purna. A new era is coming.” With that, I stride away, footsteps echoing against chipped marble walls.

Inside the estate, the halls remain dim.

Most of the decorative lamps have been extinguished to conserve resources.

I pass guards who bow stiffly. Their stares flick over me as though uncertain whether to revere or doubt me.

Rumors swirl that I might proclaim Selene an equal or more.

The once rigid caste lines blur, and the tension hums in every corridor.

Climbing a spiral staircase, I reach the grand hall.

Sunlight pours through fractured stained-glass windows, painting the floor in shards of colored light.

The once-pristine dais at the hall’s far end is cracked, some pillars leaning precariously.

A cluster of Red Purna detainees kneel near a side wall, guarded by two silent soldiers.

Zareth stands among them, scanning with that intense psionic focus, ensuring they remain docile.

His gaze shifts up when he senses me approach.

He offers a curt nod, then glances toward the center of the hall.

Selene stands near Ai, who sits perched on a stone bench.

The child’s silver hair gleams with an otherworldly sheen, though her posture suggests exhaustion.

Selene crouches in front of her, speaking in low tones I can’t quite catch.

Ai’s hands tremble, perhaps still shaken by the siege and her own volatile magic.

Selene’s presence radiates calm. She brushes a reassuring touch across Ai’s arm, and the child sags in relief.

My chest warms at the sight. Selene wields a quiet authority, bridging fierce power and compassion in a way Orthani’s traditions never taught me. She senses my approach, turning with a faint smile that flickers across her lips. Ai peers around her, then offers me a small nod of acknowledgment.

“How is she?” I ask softly, stepping closer.

Selene straightens. “Shaken, but safe. We saved her from the Red Purna’s final push. She feels guilty that so many were hurt in the fight. I told her it’s not her fault.”

Ai’s eyes flick to me, shining with a distant sadness. “I didn’t want any of this,” she whispers. “All I did was exist. Why do they hate me so much?”

I kneel by the bench. “They don’t hate you personally, Ai. They see your power as a tool or a threat. Purna are forced to hide, and Orthani fosters fear. None of that is on you.” Gently, I rest a hand on her shoulder. She nods, but tears glisten at the corners of her pale eyes.

Selene exhales, stepping back. “She needs rest. Zareth arranged a quiet room. We can’t keep her in shadows forever, but for now, she’ll be protected.”

I straighten, scanning the hall’s battered interior. “I have something I’d like to say, but not here. Let’s find a calmer spot.”

Selene hesitates, a question in her gaze.

She looks at Ai, who nods faintly as if giving permission.

The child stands, following Zareth’s gesture toward the hallway.

He escorts her away, presumably to that quiet room.

Selene and I remain in the grand hall, which is almost deserted except for a few wandering nobles picking through debris.

The soft crunch of broken glass underfoot underscores the city’s battered state.

I gesture for her to follow me up a side staircase, one that leads to a small balcony overlooking a courtyard.

The climb is short, and the corridor overhead is lit by a single shaft of sunlight through a cracked window.

Finally, we emerge onto the balcony, finding it surprisingly intact.

The breeze wafts gently, carrying the faint smell of cinders.

From here, we can see Orthani’s outer walls, scorched in places.

Beyond them, farmland stretches under the morning sun. The city looks bruised but unbroken.

Selene leans against the balcony rail, arms crossed, watching me with expectant eyes. “You’re quiet, Vaelith. Did something happen among the nobles?” Her voice holds that sly edge I’ve grown to crave. She’s half suspecting more councils or conflicts.

I step close, letting the warmth of the day coat my skin.

My mind churns with the plan that’s been forming ever since I saw Orthani on the verge of destruction and realized I wanted a future with Selene at the center.

“After the siege,” I begin, “the nobles, the city, they’re all in disarray.

They see you as both savior and threat. The old rules can’t contain what you represent.

But if we don’t give them some symbol, they might turn on you—or tear themselves apart. ”

Her eyes narrow, curiosity ignited. “Symbol?”

I breathe in deeply, feeling the flutter of nerves.

“Yes. A ceremony. A public vow. Orthani has many traditions, but none bridging purna and dark elf as equals. Usually, a purna might be enslaved or exiled. But we stand on the brink of a new era, and I see no stronger sign of that than a mating ceremony—one that cements you as part of Orthani, not a captive, and me as standing with you, not just using you.”

A flash of emotion crosses her face—surprise, maybe. She steps back from the rail, scanning my expression. “Mating ceremony,” she repeats, voice husky with tension. “You want me to marry into Orthani’s old system? That hardly seems like the transformation we want.”

I raise a hand. “It won’t be the usual union, where the purna is subjugated.

We rewrite the vows. We hold it in public, so the city sees we stand as equals.

Let them gossip, let them witness that a purna and a dark elf commander unite.

In one stroke, we challenge Orthani’s cruelty and quell their fear that you’re here only to topple them. ”

She studies me in silence. My heart pounds. “What about Eryx or Zareth?” she says quietly. “You know I won’t choose just one man.” A faint, almost mischievous smile touches her lips, but there’s a genuine question in her eyes.