Through Flame and Time

The sky over Snowrest hung like leaden clouds scorched by flames, pressing down on the city.

Before the sun rose, dull war drums rumbled from afar, like a herd of beasts roaring in the depths of the wilderness. The Regent's army advanced like a tidal wave, banners blotting out the sky as golden-black crests flapped wildly in the cold wind.

Aveline stood upon the main city gate, clad in black armor with a cape like dancing flames, her gaze as sharp as torches. Lucian stood at her side, his shoulder wound still unhealed but his longsword in hand, as cold and resolute as ice.

"After today, either he dies or I do," she murmured.

"We face this together," Lucian squeezed her hand.

A horn blared across the city.

The battle began in earnest.

The enemy advanced in three waves: heavy infantry with shield formations in the vanguard, archers suppressing from behind, and cavalry charging at the rear. The Regent's forces were disciplined and fierce, launching siege cannons at the West Gate in the initial assault that cracked the city wall deeply.

Aveline gave a decisive order: "Withdraw from the west corridor—lure them into the trap!"

General Vidal followed the plan. As expected, the enemy broke through the gate and plunged into street fighting, where the alleys were rigged with traps. Scalding oil, raging fires, and dense arrow volleys drove them back temporarily.

But the enemy's main force soon followed, pushing close to the main hall square. Aveline drew her sword and charged into the fray herself, leaving no enemy standing in her wake. Lucian fought beside her, their blades dancing in unison.

Through the smoke, the Regent emerged on a red-maned warhorse, clad in black helm and golden armor. His eyes met Aveline's across the sea of soldiers.

"Murderer's daughter," he proclaimed, "you wretched spawn dare to rebel?"

"You—who killed my father, burned my family, and slaughtered loyalists—you are the true traitor," Aveline unsheathed her saber. "Today, I claim your head to avenge royal blood!"

She spurred her horse forward, Lucian at her heels. The armies stilled for a moment before erupting into chaos.

In the city's heart, Aveline and the Regent clashed head-on, their mounts charging toward each other. The first collision shattered their lances; in the second duel, Aveline blocked his battle-ax with her sword, her wrist splitting open from the impact, but she gritted her teeth and held her ground.

"Your little flame is nothing," the Regent roared.

"But this fire," Aveline shouted back, "has reached the foot of your throne!"

Using the momentum, she flipped from her horse, driving a dagger deep into his shoulder. The Regent roared and reeled back as his guards rushed forward to cover his retreat.

Lucian charged after them, fending off pursuers.

The battle raged until dusk, rivers of blood flowing through the streets. Snowrest suffered heavy losses but held firm.

That night, snow fell like ashes as Aveline sat silent in the council chamber. Lucian entered, armor shattered and covered in blade wounds, kneeling before her to present the Regent's retreat flag.

"He's withdrawing. No attack tomorrow."

Aveline whispered: "This isn't over."

"But we've won a day." He pulled her into his arms, kissing her trembling lips.

She unfastened his tunic, tracing the scars on his chest: "You've taken too many blows for me."

Gasping, he said: "All I want is to stay with you to the end."

She pulled him to the couch, their bodies tangling like fire. As he entered her, she looked into his eyes: "Will you still follow me against the heavens?"

"You are my life."

That night, they sank into each other's breaths after blood and fire, still clinging together when morning light spilled over the broken battlements, unwilling to let go.