Chapter 58 After the Ashes

Not every battle ends with victory. Some just end.

The corrupted zone was behind them now—miles of twisted land, broken sky, and things they didn’t have names for. They never looked back. No one even suggested it.

Night had come and stayed. It felt heavier out here, as if the air itself didn’t want to be touched. The wind moved like breath through clenched teeth. The trees whispered and creaked above them, and every sound reminded them they weren’t safe.

They found a half-collapsed chapel on the edge of the forest. Moss and root had grown over it like skin, as if nature had tried to bury what it didn’t want to remember. The roof sagged. One wall had caved in. The altar was cracked straight through the center, but it was dry and hidden. It would do.

They didn’t talk about what came next. No plans. No path. Just silence.

Kai sat with his back against the cold stone altar, one arm pressed against his ribs. The skin there still burned. Deep inside, something didn’t feel right. His fighting sticks lay beside him, cracked from the last battle, scorched black at the ends.

He hadn’t told them—not about the blood that kept coming, thicker now, darker than it should be. Not about the way his vision blurred when he stood, or the flickers of light that danced beneath his skin when he thought too hard. Something was happening to him. Something he didn’t understand.

He was changing.

Or maybe he was breaking.

Maybe both.

Fara slept nearby, curled up beside the base of a broken arch. Her fourth tail had come in fully, glowing faintly in the dark. It twitched now and then, reacting to things none of them could see. Her body shimmered. The magic around her didn’t rest, not even when she did.

“She’s phasing more often,” Patrona said softly from the edge of the room.

Kai didn’t take his eyes off Fara. “I know.”

“She won’t tell you this,” Patrona went on. “But the fourth tail means she’s crossed into the boundary. She’s in two places now. It’s not just power—it’s distance. She’s further from us than she was.”

He kept his voice low. “I won’t lose her.”

Patrona didn’t argue. She just sat beside him. Quietly. That meant more than any answer could’ve.

At the broken doorway, Skye stood with her arms crossed tight against the chill. She watched the trees like they might move. Her breath left soft fog in the air. She hadn’t said much since the shrine.

But now she turned.

“You’re bleeding again,” she said.

Kai touched his nose. Blood. Again. He wiped it on his sleeve. “It’ll stop.”

“No, it won’t.” She came closer and knelt beside him. Her hand brushed his cheek, then rested lightly against his jaw. “You think we don’t see it, but we do. You’re falling apart.”

Kai tried to make light of it. “We all are.”

Her voice cracked. “You’re not allowed to die.”

He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. Her warmth steadied him. “I’m not planning on it.”

She gave a faint smile. “Good. Because I finally figured it out.”

He blinked. “Figured what out?”

“What I want.” She hesitated, then looked him straight in the eyes. “You. All of you. Even the stubborn, half-broken parts.”

He laughed softly. The movement made him wince. She caught him when he did, swore under her breath, and didn’t let go.

Near the far corner, Revoli sat with her legs crossed, scribbling something into a worn notebook. Her bomb satchel lay open beside her—half-empty now. Her hands were stained with ash and leftover spell residue. She hadn’t slept.

Kai eased himself down beside her.

She didn’t look up. “Still dreaming?”

“No.”

“Me neither,” she said. “That’s the problem.”

She snapped the notebook shut. “If this isn’t a dream… what are we stuck in?”

He didn’t answer.

Revoli looked over, eyes tired but sharp. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“When we make it through this, I get to name the next generation of explosives.”

He gave her a faint grin. “Deal.”

That night, Kai drifted into sleep by the altar. He didn’t think he’d dream. But he did.

Only—it didn’t feel like a dream.

She appeared from the far end of the chapel, slipping out of the shadows like smoke.

Malrissa.

No flames. No glowing eyes. Just her—like someone he used to know. Her voice was quiet.

“I told you,” she said. “They’ll turn on you.”

He shook his head. “No. They won’t.”

She circled slowly. “All it takes is one secret. One mistake. One thing they can’t forgive.”

“You’re not real,” he said.

“I’m more real than you,” she whispered, touching his chest.

Everything went white.

When he opened his eyes, he was still in the chapel. The fire had burned low. The room was dim.

But in his hand was a pendant.

Bone-white. Etched with her sigil.

He didn’t remember picking it up.

The fire had burned low. The others slept in fits and starts. Skye murmured in her sleep. Fara’s tails flickered. Revoli mumbled something about fuses.

Only Patrona was awake.

She stood by the broken chapel doorway, peering out into the woods.

Kai joined her.

“What is it?”

She pointed.

Far off, through the trees—torchlight.

At first, he thought it was hunters. Soldiers. Even scavengers.

But then the flames flickered the wrong color—violet and black, like bruised lightning.

“Malrissa?”

“No,” Patrona said, voice low.

“Then what?”

She didn’t answer.

The torches moved closer.

The dream was over.

But the nightmare had only begun.