The Breaking Point
The battle ends not with a roar, but with silent snowfall.
Ignisia kneels in the ashes of her own wings, the last embers of her fire licking weakly at the ink-stained ground. Her eyes—once bright with dragon-gold—are now dull as tarnished coins.
She reaches for Aiden. Her fingers leave charcoal smudges on his cheek.
"Who… are you?"
The question isn't mournful. Isn't angry. Just curious, like a child finding a broken toy.
Aiden's grin is a wound stretched taut.
"Nobody important." He presses her palm to his chest where his heartbeat thuds like a war drum. "Just the guy who's gonna burn this place down."
Her laugh is crackling parchment.
"Good."
Then—
She crumbles.
Not dramatically. Not beautifully.
Like a statue left out in the rain.
The Aftermath
The System dings:
[PARTY MEMBER LOST: IGNISIA]
[FIRE AFFINITY LOCKED]
[NEW QUEST: GRIEVE LATER]
Aiden doesn't move.
The ash sticks to his boots anyway.
Next Chapter's Omen:
The ashes move on their own when he's not looking.
Lyria finds a single dragon scale in her pocket—but Ignisia never gave her one.