Zytherion was cast into the abyss, his army shattered by the storm's fury. His scream echoed through the dark forest, filled not only with rage but with the anguish of a love forever lost. Though his body was broken, his soul drifted through the shadows, bound to the world by obsession alone.
Even as he fell, his crimson eyes never left Aoleria.
"You may destroy me," he roared, "but you will never erase me from your heart. I am bound not to darkness anymore… but to you."
Then the shadows swallowed him whole.
Aoleria stood amidst the ruins of the battlefield. Her crystalline palace still rose against the sky, her people had triumphed. Yet the cost was immeasurable. She had sealed the final fragment of her heart in ice.
She was no longer merely a queen. She had become the legend of endless winter. Her people bowed before her, naming her the "Mother of Ice." But within her eyes there was no joy, no peace—only a cold and unyielding resolve.
Even after Zytherion's fall, she could still hear his voice in the howling wind. Each spring, when the frozen flowers strained to regain their colors, her heart remained frozen, untouched by the warmth of renewal.
Thus the love between ice and darkness became an eternal tragedy. Her people remembered her as their savior, but Aoleria herself carried the heaviest burden: she had won the war, but in doing so, she had lost her heart forever.