Big John, who had a front-row seat to the entire spectacle, was still lost in the glory of it all. He stood rooted to the spot, his massive frame utterly still as he replayed the events in his head. The sight of Adah as a majestic battle angel, the terrifying power of Sheut's shadowy whirlwind, the feeling of the Dread Lord's soul shattering, and finally, the breathtaking, life-giving song of the firebirds. It was all a blur of impossibility and wonder.
He was a man of logic and battle, a master of spatial manipulation who relied on cold, hard facts and calculated movements. But what he had just witnessed defied every rule he had ever known. The world was not as he understood it to be. There were forces at play, harmonies and discords, that were far older and more profound than any magic he had ever encountered. The young girl he had trained and the mysterious demon she loved were not just a couple; they were a catalyst, a new kind of power that was changing the very fabric of the world. And he, Big John, had just been given a front-row seat to the unfolding of a new legend.
For the people in the caravan, the experience only deepened their reverence for the angel and demon who had come to save them. This day would be forever marked in their memories, an event so profound and otherworldly that it defied rational explanation. The stories, tales, and ballads that would be created from this battle would transcend logic and imagination.
How could they even begin to describe what they had witnessed without sounding completely crazy? How could they explain the angelic figure who mended their wounds with a single touch, or the dark figure who moved like a force of nature? The truth was, they couldn't. So, they would rely on the only tools they had. Faith and storytelling. The angel and the devil became a symbol, not of fear, but of hope.
Somewhere in an undisclosed section of the universe, a pair of fiery eyes burst open with violet flames spewing out of them. The flames then ignited all over the person's body, transforming them into a beautiful bird made entirely of plasma. Crouching and backing to a wall, the being mustered all of its strength, a profound surge of energy coursing through its form. The chains and cage that had held it captive for millennia groaned under the strain, and with a final push, the plasma bird ran forward, shattering its prison with a deafening crash.
Instead of fighting the ones who had imprisoned it, the bird only fought and burned everything in its path, creating a clear path for its escape. Its violet flames, hot enough to melt stone and warp reality, incinerated every obstacle, making a desperate bid for freedom. In its wake, the bird also burned the cages of other captives, releasing them into the chaos. The bird did this for two reasons. Reason one was to fulfill the pact made among the captured, that if given the chance for escape, they would do their best to give others the chance as well. The second reason was that its powers were waning. The bird wasn't quite sure who or what gave it a temporary boost, but it was grateful for the chance to be free. Perhaps if the bird were in its right mind, it would feel the notes of faith it was receiving, a faint, almost alien sensation of reverence and wonder. It's been way too long since it happened, and that feeling, once a constant in its life, was now little more than a distant, forgotten memory.
Queen Nandi's voice, a familiar presence in Big John's mind, cut through the glorious aftermath of the battle. "John, I know you're lost in the beauty of it all. But we have a schedule to keep to. Collect the two love birds and return to the carriage."
With a mental acknowledgment, John received the precise dimensional coordinates. He then proceeded to open a shimmering rift in the air, a tear in reality that led directly back to the carriage. "Adah! Sheut!" he called out, his voice a deep rumble that broke through their shared moment of silent wonder. "The Queen has given her orders. Time to go."
He stood before them, a shimmering rift in reality already open at his back. The dimensional portal was a swirling vortex of energy, its edges crackling with a soft, static hum. It was an impossible sight, yet one that had become routine in the short time since Sheut's arrival.
Adah's hand, still clasped in Sheut's, tightened slightly as she looked from the rift to her new life partner. The silent communication passed between them was one of reluctant acquiescence. They had been lost in a moment of pure, unadulterated wonder, a moment that had fundamentally changed who they were. The magic of the blue flame, the majestic dance of the lesser phoenixes, and the profound song that had cleansed the world. It all felt like a dream, a beautiful, impossible dream.
Sheut nodded, a faint, rueful smile on his face. The moment was over. A new chapter of their lives was beginning, but there was still a world of rules and schedules to contend with. He turned to face Big John, his expression one of solemn understanding. "We're coming," he said, his voice a low, steady murmur. Together, their hands still intertwined, they stepped toward the shimmering rift, leaving the battlefield, now a blossoming garden of life and peace, behind them.
Adah and Sheut walked through the warp steps, finally followed by Big John. Arriving in front of the carriage, the group entered it. The Queen was the first to speak, her composure utterly shattered by her excitement.
"Wow, Adah, you have firebird lineage! That's amazing! No wonder your plasma and healing abilities are so powerful. Also, Sheut was the catalyst for unlocking your lineage. Pure romantasy!" she squealed, a sound that was far more befitting a delighted schoolgirl than a reigning monarch. "Oh my gawd, don't forget about the aerial show. Simply amazing!"
She momentarily forgot that she wasn't privately talking to Adah. Coughing, she recollected herself, straightening her posture and smoothing out her dress. However, she still shared a knowing gaze with her best friend, a silent acknowledgment that even with all the weight of her crown, some things were just too thrilling to keep a straight face about.
Adah was only able to contain herself from the torrent of excitement pouring from her best friend because of a very brief connection she felt to the flaming bird far, far away. It was a fleeting, almost imperceptible sensation. Not a thought or a sound, but a resonance, a deep and ancient echo that resonated within her very being. For a split second, she felt the profound, alien sorrow of a being who had been trapped for millennia, followed by a surge of defiant, unbridled fury.
The feeling was so powerful, so immense, that it instantly dwarfed Queen Nandi's delightful chatter. The Queen was seeing the events through the lens of a beautiful story, a "romantasy," as she put it. But Adah, in that brief moment, had touched upon the raw, unvarnished reality of it all. A cosmic struggle that was far grander and more terrifying than any fictional tale. That momentary glimpse into the universe's true scale was all she needed to remain calm. It grounded her, providing a silent, internal anchor that kept her from getting swept away by the joyful whirlwind of her best friend's emotion.