Elaine blinked. Looked up then down.
Oh.
The blade had found her instead.
Blood spilled from her chest in a flood.
The Avalon Core was gone—and so was her protection.
She crumpled to her knees.
Gilgamesh tore through the field, his face a mask of panic. "OUT OF MY WAY!"
He fell beside her, gathering her into his arms.
" Sweetheart, open your eyes – Elaine Pendragon !"
Arthuria dropped beside them, hands glowing, trying to heal—but the light wouldn't hold.
She looked up at Eugene. "…Where is Avalon?"
His voice was hollow. "She gave it to Julian."
Arthuria closed her eyes. "Then it's gone."
Gil didn't speak. His arms tightened around his daughter as her light dimmed.
Arthur stumbled to Aturia, catching her just before she fell. Her hands trembled, lips trembling.
Rhysand, pale and shaking—his magic barely keeping her from tearing Ronan apart.
But even he was breaking.
Gil rocked Elaine gently, blood soaking his cloak.
How history repeats itself .
Her eyes fluttered open one last time.
"…Dad?" she whispered, voice barely audible. "Could you… sing that song? From my nursery…"
Gil's voice cracked. "Sure, sweetheart…"
He began to hum.
The lullaby was soft. Ancient. The same one he'd sung when she was just a baby swaddled in his arms. The battlefield fell silent.
Even the wind stopped.
And then—
Elaine was gone.
Her breath stilled. Her light faded.
Only the memory of her warmth remained.
Arturia broke first.
A cry—raw, unrestrained—ripped from her throat as she collapsed over Gil and Elaine's body.
Arthur's chest, clutching his armor.
Eugene stood frozen.
He couldn't cry. He couldn't move. He just stared—haunted.
If she hadn't given Julian the Avalon… she would be alive.
A life for a life.
Julian stepped forward, horror in his eyes. "Is there no way… to give it back?"
Arthuria's voice was barely a whisper, broken and frayed.
"You can only betray Avalon… three times."
Gil said nothing.
His tears fell silently as he rocked his daughter in his arms, humming that song—even though she couldn't hear it anymore.
His joy was gone.
Elaine rested beneath the ancient tree.
The roots wound around her like arms of the earth itself, petals and wildflowers blanketing her body like a second skin.
The air shimmered with soft magic. Even the wind dared not blow too hard.
The Pendragons would take her home soon.
But for now…
Gilgamesh never left her side.
He sat beneath the tree, humming softly. The lullaby. The one she loved most.
The one he'd sung to her as a baby.
Ronan stood nearby, head bowed, silent.
"She was a remarkable princess," Ronan said finally.
Gil's humming stopped.
"She was the light of our family," he said quietly, voice rough. "I prayed for a daughter that looked like her mother. Just one small act of kindness from the gods…"
Silence.
"She was always so kind. So full of love…"
He chuckled through the ache in his throat.
"She used to sneak into the forest at midnight. Just to wait for these… butterflies. Every…"
"Ten years," Ronan finished, eyes distant. "They were fireflies."
Gil looked up. His smile was tired. Wet. "Yeah. firefiles…"
Then, Ronan shifted. "There's a way."
Gil looked at him, silent.
Ronan stepped forward, hand over his chest. "The previous king… he wanted to fuse Avalon with his heart. He thought it would make him a perfect heir. It didn't. But the theory…"
He drew out a half-light, glowing faintly between his fingers.
"I could bring her back. Like Mordred. She wouldn't be the same… but she would be alive."
"But?" he asked.
Ronan's voice was careful. Heavy.
"She needs a whole heart. Not just any. A pendragon heart."
Gilgamesh understood. His hand moved over his chest, slow and certain.
"Take mine."
Ronan's head snapped up.. "You will die, Your Highness."
He smiled faintly. "I know. They're ready to live without me. I prepared them well enough."
"You knew all along," Ronan whispered. "And still… you changed nothing?"
He shook his head. "I wouldn't change a thing."
As Elaine drifted into unconsciousness.
her body cradled in Kaelion's arms, her mind slipped away into a serene,
otherworldly space.
The battlefield's chaos faded into a hushed stillness, replaced by a lush, golden field that stretched endlessly beneath a sky of shifting constellations.
In the center of this dreamlike expanse stood a figure, neither imposing nor diminished—simply present, radiating a calm and gentle warmth. His hair was the color of young grass, his eyes a deep, tranquil green.
"Where am I?"
"You are between. Not fully here, not entirely gone.like me."
She turned, her breath catching as she took in the figure.
Though unfamiliar, there was an aura about him that felt ancient, timeless, and steady.
"Your—"
"Enkidu, Brother of the great King Gilgamesh—and youyre
"Uncle!"
"Yes.. and a watcher of those who tread the paths between life and death as well."
She tilted her head, a flicker of recognition sparking in her gaze.
She had heard the ancient tales, though they seemed distant and mythic in her mortal life.
Elaine ;these powers ..are from you arnt they
Enkidu smiled softly, stepping closer. His voice was gentle, yet firm with purpose.
"I have watched you, Elaine. Your path is extraordinary, filled with sacrifice and love. It is why I come to you now."
Elaine frowned, unease prickling at her. "If you're here, does that mean I'm…?"
Enkidu shook his head.
"Not yet. You linger close, but your story is not finished. However, I bring a message."
She waited, her heart feeling both heavy and light as he continued.
"Your father, carries burdens far heavier than he admits. He hides it well."
Elara blinked, her lips parting in surprise.
Enkidu's smile widened, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. He reached out, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.
"And for you, Sweet Elaine , I have a wish. For you to Be happy. You carry the weight of kingdoms, but your heart deserves joy, too. Don't let duty overshadow love—it is the one thing that binds us all, mortal and immortal alike."
She felt tears prick her eyes at his words, his sincerity cutting through her.
"I'll try."
"Good. Now, go back. There are those waiting for you, hearts that beat because of you. Don't keep them waiting too long."
The golden field began to fade, the edges of the realm dissolving into a soft, white light.
Enkidu's figure remained steady, watching her with a serene smile as she was pulled back to the world of the living.
His final words reached her as a whisper, carried on the wind:
"'ll always be with you. And that I'm proud of you both."
The ritual began.
Elaine's body was lifted into a cocoon of light, wrapped in blossoms and golden energy.
Her soul called. Waiting. A flicker between worlds.
Ronan began the spell, and Gil stepped forward. Calm. Steady. A king until the end.
That's when—
Arturia entered.
Her eyes widened, her steps broke into a sprint. "Gil—NO!"
He raised a shield with a quiet wave of his hand.
She slammed into it, hands pressed flat, screaming. "Don't you do this! Gilgamesh—don't you leave me!"
He looked at her.
That smile.
Bitter. Soft. Final.
"I love you, my lioness."
She screamed. "Gil—RHYSAND! you swore…."
Rhysand appeared instantly, sliding beside her, casting every spell he could—his hands glowed, crackled, shattered—but the shield held.
Arthur arrived next. Then Eugene.
"Dad—!"
"Please—"
But Gil stood tall.
The ritual neared its end. Light surged. His body weakened.
He dropped to one knee.
Arturia broke through. She collapsed to him, clutching him. Her tears soaked his tunic.
"You promised," she sobbed. "You promised me…"
Gil didn't speak.
His hand found hers.
He looked to Rhysand—kneeling now, hands shaking.
"…Take care of the family, son."
Rhysand choked on a breath, nodding silently.
Gil turned his head.
He saw them all.
His family. His legacy. His kingdom.
And finally, he looked at Elaine—her cocoon glowing now, her body twitching slightly, as life surged back into her.
He wouldn't live to see her open her eyes.
But he knew.
She was alive.
And that was enough.
With his last breath, he whispered—
"My treasures…"
And then—
Gilgamesh, King of Uruk, Father of Legends,
was gone.
In that same moment .
Elaine gasped as her eyes snapped open.
They no longer shimmered sapphire—but glowed with a soft, ethereal light, like the last gleam of dawn over the sea. Her breath hitched, her limbs trembled.
Her ears—longer now, tapered to fine points.
Her back—aching, unfolding, and then—
Wings.
Translucent. Veined with light. Fragile, yet somehow indestructible. Like glass spun from starlight.
She stumbled forward—
And Ronan caught her.
He held her gently, staring in awe. "Elaine…"
But her eyes swept past him—to the golden tree.
And to the man lying still.
"Dad?"
She ran.
Her legs nearly collapsed beneath her, but she forced herself forward.
"Dad—" she cried, falling to her knees beside his body. "Daddy—please—"
She shook him as if trying to wake him from a dream. But he didn't awoke. His lips were still parted from the words he'd never finish.
"Come back—" she sobbed.
Arthur moved to hold her, but Elaine shrieked—grief unbound, her wings flaring in pain.
The world mourned with her.