The battlefield had fallen silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence one found beneath a starlit sky, nor the comforting hush that settled over forests before dawn.
This silence was heavy.
Oppressive.
It was the kind of silence that lingered only after death had claimed everything worth hearing.
The wind drifted lazily over the ruined plains, carrying with it the bitter scent of ash, burnt wood, molten stone and blood.
So much blood.
Thousands of bodies lay scattered across the landscape, some buried beneath collapsed hills, others resting where they had taken their final breath. Broken swords protruded from the earth like forgotten gravestones. Torn banners fluttered weakly from snapped spears, their once-proud colours dulled by soot and crimson stains.
A forest bordering the battlefield continued to burn.
Orange flames climbed what remained of blackened trunks, occasionally sending showers of glowing embers into the smoke-choked sky.
Entire cliffs had been carved apart.
Massive craters scarred the earth where explosions had ripped through solid stone, leaving behind pools of molten rock that crackled softly in the distance.
There was no cheering.
No celebration.
Only the quiet reminder of what victory truly cost.
And in the middle of that endless sea of destruction...
Two figures remained standing.
_________
Flame exhaled slowly.
His lungs burned.
Every breath scraped painfully against his chest, as though he had inhaled fire instead of air.
His black armour was barely recognisable beneath layers of dust and dried blood.
Deep cracks spread across his chestplate where enchanted weapons had struck him hours earlier.
His black wings drooped behind him.
They weren't built for flight.
Never had been.
Sometimes he hated them for it.
They were merely another reminder that he wasn't entirely demon... nor entirely blaze.
His crimson-orange curls clung to his forehead with sweat.
One of his smaller horns had been chipped during the battle.
His knuckles ached around the hilt of his sword.
Even lifting the weapon now felt exhausting.
Yet...
He smiled.
Because someone else was still standing.
