The battlefield looked wrecked, smoke hanging everywhere under this messed-up sky that felt too heavy somehow. Charred ground and broken trees mixed with that sharp smell of blood and burned magic left behind, sticking in the air no matter how you breathed.
Where Esme woke up, it was like a deep cut in the earth, all black and still twitching with some leftover energy. Up above, the Veil shook around, looking torn and alive in a bad way, like it was hurt.
They did not really win anything. Survival was all they got. Esme was down there in the middle of it all, kneeling and shaking hard because of whatever she had turned into.
Those wings of hers, with the cracked gold lines running through them, kept blinking on and off, fading like something about to go out. Power just poured from her in these wild waves, nothing holding it back.
She seemed to be coming apart at the edges. Jules moved first, not caring about the hot air coming off Esme that made everything feel tight in your chest. She pushed forward quickly, her boots grinding into the soot.
"Niah-Esme—", Jules stumbled over the name, her voice coming out weak and not sure which one to use. Was part of the old Niah even left? Could she pull any of it back?
Esme lifted her head really slowly. Her eyes glowed too much, not like a person's anymore, and not even like the Aesvaran they knew before. Behind them, something huge stirred, older than anything that should fit inside someone, vast and out of place.
"I—uh—I can't hold it", Esme whispered, her words breaking apart. "—I'm slipping away—"
Then this big shake of energy hit the ground hard, pushing Jules back just a bit. Zaire came in after that, walking into the burned circle with his face all focused, checking things over. He got down across from Jules and reached out with a gloved hand, saying some old chant to try and steady her. His voice stayed even, but the power did not really pay attention. Words alone could not handle this kind of thing.
Kael and Veyna stayed out on the edges, holding their weapons ready, staring off toward the distance. They were not set for another fight right then.
More like waiting to see what happened with Esme, if she made it through. Sylen hung back further, his arms crossed, watching it all with this sharp look, figuring things out. He did not step in or mess with anything.
"Shes burning up from the inside", Elira said under her breath, her fingers moving fast to draw these sigils with her own blood, everything about her looking rushed and scared. "If we don't get it under control soon—"
"I can handle it," Jules spoke up clearly, and heads turned her way.
"You cannot even—", Sylen began, then cut himself off.
Jules was not talking about using magic.
What she had was harder to find. Like being steady for her, or holding onto memories, something to keep her from drifting.
"Esme needs something real", Jules put it plain. "Things she knows that are not falling apart."
Esme let out this rough noise, part cry and part yell, as more power twisted inside her, pulling like it wanted to rip everything loose. That is the part that stands out, how close it got.
Jules stayed put, no backing down. She stretched her hand out.
And took Esmes wrist soft, just keeping hold. One normal touch and nothing more.
Esme sucked in air sharply, like coming up from water, leaning into Jules all at once. The wildfire around her messed up for a second.
It stopped flickering so badly.
Settled a little. That was enough, barely.
Elira got her binding rune scratched into the dirt quickly, something to hold it temporarily.
Zaire put down a wall of flame to protect her and keep the worst away.
Esme held on.
But only for the moment. The power still hummed there under it all, waiting.
* * *