The light faded, and the cold rushed in to fill the spaces it had left. I stood at the edge of the square, leaning on Runa, my legs trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The ember in my chest was a flicker, barely there, a memory of the blaze that had pushed back the darkness. I had nothing left. I had given everything.
But the villagers did not know that.
They had seen the light. They had watched it burn through the monsters, had felt its warmth against their faces, had witnessed something that should have been impossible. They did not know that I was empty, that the blaze had burned itself out, that I could not call it again. They only knew that the light had come, and the darkness had fled.
