The sun now rises softer in Ravon's eyes. His once-silver hair now streaked with dusk-blonde. He no longer walks with fire trailing his heels, but with grass brushing gently at his feets. But in every slow heartbeat, love burns fiercer than war ever did.
They say he once held death in his palm.
Now, he holds his daughter while she sleeps, wrapped in a blanket stitched with the sigils of both realms — angelic runes and demon crests intertwined like vines around a tree.
He gave up eternity to guard a moment.
And in that moment, he found everything eternity could never give.
Seraphina is no longer feared, no longer hunted. The council of angels speak her name with reverence. Demon lords bow their heads when her shadow crosses their realm.
But in the quiet fields near the Sanctuary of Dusk and Dawn, she is simply a mother.
She still wears the silver scar across her chest — the mark from where she nearly died bringing forth life. Not a wound. A crown.
She has become the bridge between the worlds, not through sword or spell, but through birth, sacrifice, and boundless heart.
Some call her Queen of Balance. Others whisper titles too sacred for books.
THE END