The sky over Valemira burned red.
Ash drifted like dead snowflakes across the ruined plains of Kryos Front, where the armies of two nations — Aurelios Dominion and the Sangreal Imperium — had torn the earth apart for half a year. Day 185. The day the world would remember.
And the day Hiraeth would die.
He knelt in the rubble of a shattered watchtower, one arm wrapped protectively around a crying infant no older than a few months. His breath was uneven, half smoke, half blood. The wound on his side pulsed with every heartbeat, dripping crimson onto the cold stones.
From the distance, the thunder of artillery shook the scorched air. The Aurelios banners — golden suns — clashed against Sangreal's crimson dragon sigils in a storm of steel and fire.
Hiraeth could barely lift his head.
Not long now.
His vision blurred, but he heard footsteps — heavy, armored, determined.
"General Varic's forces are closing in!" a voice shouted from beyond the broken wall.
That name chilled him more than the bleeding wound.Varic Draven, the "Dragon-Slayer General" of Sangreal — relentless, merciless, undefeated.
But where Varic marched, another shadow followed.
"Hiraeth! HIRAETH!"
Through the smoke stumbled Commander Elira Solenne, Aurelios' youngest tactician and Hiraeth's longtime friend. Armor cracked, spear broken, but eyes burning with refusal to surrender.
She froze when she saw him — knees shaking at the sight.
"You're… burning your life essence?" Her voice cracked.
A faint smile touched Hiraeth's bloodied lips. "It was… the only way. They would've killed the child."
The newborn in his arms whimpered, as if sensing the fading warmth that held him.
Elira stepped closer, tears streaking through the soot on her cheeks."You'll die. You know you'll die."
"I was always going to," Hiraeth said softly. "Just… not like this. Not for something so small. So human."
The ground trembled — Sangreal war machines, massive Drakewalkers, marched like metallic beasts. Their red eyes glowed through the smoke.
Behind them came Varic's voice — cold, disciplined, terrifying.
"Search every ruin. The Aurelios heir must not escape."
Elira's eyes widened. "They know about the child?"
Hiraeth nodded weakly. "This isn't just a baby… it's the last blood of Aurelios' royal line."
Elira tried to lift him, but he pushed her hand away, shaking his head.
"Take him," Hiraeth whispered, placing the swaddled infant into her trembling arms."My essence barrier will hold them back for a few minutes."
A faint golden glow wrapped around the ruins — the last remnants of his soul-force, flickering like a dying candle.
Elira bit her lip, choking back sobs. "If you die here, Aurelios loses its greatest soldier."
Hiraeth smiled — tired, peaceful, certain.
"Aurelios doesn't need a dying soldier… it needs a future."
Boots clanked on stone. Sangreal soldiers emerged from the smoke — red cloaks, black armor, eyes cold as winter steel. Behind them stood General Varic himself, towering, expression carved from stone.
He saw Hiraeth.
And he smiled.
"I finally found you," Varic said, drawing his blade. "The infamous Ghost of Aurelios… reduced to guarding a corpse of a tower."
Hiraeth tried to stand. His legs shook. But he did stand — barely — golden flame eating away at what remained of his life.
"You won't touch them," he said.
Varic cocked an eyebrow. "You're dying."
"I know."
He lifted his hand.
And the world ignited.
His essence burst outward — a wave of golden fire sweeping across the ruins. It scorched the ground, shattered stone, and forced Sangreal soldiers to shield their eyes from its brilliance.
Varic staggered back, roaring in fury.
Elira, clutching the wailing infant, ran into the smoke — tears falling, heart breaking with every step.
Behind her, Hiraeth's voice echoed through the flames.
"Live… little one."
The golden light flared—
Then faded.
And the battlefield fell silent.
Day 185.The day Hiraeth died.
But the world did not yet understand…
It was also the day the future was born.