The war was on the verge of ending.
At least… in this region of the universe.
For a thousand years, the starfields had been torn apart by the flames of battle. Worlds had burned, armies had clashed in storms of light and blood, and entire civilizations had been shaped by this endless conflict.
But today, finally, silence was returning.
The war was slowly receding, like a storm disappearing over the horizon.
And with it, the weight of incessant battles was vanishing.
Victory called for celebration.
In the Ivory Isles, the festival was in full swing.
The vast terraces suspended over the cosmic void were illuminated by thousands of celestial lanterns. Crystal walkways connected the floating palaces, and in every hall, songs, laughter, and the clinking of golden cups echoed.
Today was the day of the banquet.
The feast did not smell of victory.
It smelled of forgetting.
The wine, the celestial meats, the too-loud laughter of soldiers who had seen too many things — all of it smelled less of triumph than of the desperate relief of still being alive.
Some recounted their exploits with pride. Others shamelessly exaggerated their victories. They laughed at wounds. They joked about death.
Because sometimes… laughter was the only way to forget what they had seen.
At the center of the isles stood an immense circular terrace, open to the infinity of the cosmos.
It was there that King Izanori Arcanyrus stood.
Straight.
Imposing.
By his side stood several members of the royal family and a few influential figures of the empire.
Light bathed the Ivory Isles like an ocean of gold.
Izanori was dressed in a brilliant white outfit, embroidered with solar patterns. A golden cape fell behind his shoulders and floated gently in the celestial wind sweeping the heights of the isles.
He looked less like a king than the very incarnation of light.
Before him stretched a sea of divine beings.
Every soldier present bore the mark of his power: shimmering armor, ancient weapons forged from dead stars, gazes marked by battle.
In the sky above them, several celestial dragons circled slowly, their gigantic wings reflecting the light like living mirrors.
But an absence was felt.
Sarvador.
He did not stand by the king's side.
Since his arrival in the Ivory Isles the day before, his presence had provoked a true storm of discussion. Rumors had spread like an epidemic. The legendary Sarvador had returned.
Some saw him as a hero.
Others as a calamity.
But these past few days, he had shown surprising calm. He had spent his time talking with certain members of the royal family, observing the isles… or simply disappearing for hours without anyone knowing where he was.
As if he were waiting for something.
But today, attention was not turned toward him.
Today was a day of celebration.
Izanori observed his people for a long moment.
Thousands of gazes were turned toward him.
Warriors.
Heroes.
Survivors.
Then the king slowly raised his hand.
Instantly, the crowd fell silent.
The light around him intensified.
A wave of soft and soothing energy spread across the terrace, enveloping the entire crowd in an almost sacred warmth.
All turned toward him.
Some bowed deeply.
Others stayed straight but respectfully lowered their heads.
Then Izanori spoke.
His voice echoed through the isles like a divine resonance.
« Greetings to one and all. »
Absolute silence now reigned.
« Thank you for coming today. »
His gaze scanned the crowd.
« Today is a great day. »
He paused.
« The battle for Ormyr is over. »
Whispers moved through the crowd.
« Victory was difficult… but we have conquered. »
Applause broke out.
The king continued.
« Today, we celebrate this victory. »
His voice became softer.
« But we also celebrate the hope that things can become better. »
He observed the soldiers.
« I want to thank each and every one of you. »
« The heroes will be rewarded. »
« The brave will be honored. »
Then his gaze became more grave.
« And today… we honor those who have fallen. »
Silence returned.
« For many have died… so that others could move forward. »
Several soldiers lowered their heads.
Some closed their eyes.
Izanori inhaled slowly.
« So today… »
His voice grew warmer.
« We drink. We eat. We sing. We tell our battles. »
« To honor them. »
A smile appeared on his face.
« Today is a day of celebration. »
« For all that we have accomplished… »
« And for all that we will yet accomplish. »
He slightly raised his cup.
« So please… let us feast. »
An explosion of joy went through the crowd.
Applause erupted.
Cries of victory echoed through the isles.
The soldiers raised their cups.
Some laughed.
Others wept.
All had felt the sincerity of their king.
When Izanori raised his cup, the crowd erupted in joy.
No one noticed that in the shadow of an archway, one silhouette did not raise theirs.
Further into the isles, in one of the inner bastions, a vast hall of white stone was illuminated by large golden crystals hanging from the ceiling.
Around an ivory table, three soldiers were gathered.
They were among the most respected warriors of the royal army.
Some called them the Stars.
They had fought alongside the young prince on the battlefield.
The first was a young man with brilliant golden hair. His gaze shone like a thousand suns. His body seemed sculpted from the light of a star.
Beside him stood a woman of almost unreal beauty. Her long black hair recalled a starless sky. Her eyes looked like a storm ready to break. Her presence was both fascinating and dangerous.
Facing them, a man with bronzed skin drank quietly from an ivory cup. His blue hair recalled the depths of the ocean. His gaze was warm. A slight smile floated on his lips.
All three were talking with other soldiers, exchanging battle memories.
Then a man approached their table.
He did not look like a man who had just walked over.
He looked like a man who had been waiting for a long time for the right moment to do so.
He was tall. Massive. Almost intimidating. His broad shoulders seemed capable of carrying mountains. His arms were covered in ancient scars. His long black hair absorbed the light, as if the world refused to reflect in it.
He stopped before the table.
His gaze landed on them.
« I have heard of you. »
His voice was deep.
« They say you were with the young lord on the battlefield. »
He slightly inclined his head.
« It is an honor to meet you. »
A smile appeared on his face.
« The Stars… is that not what they call you? »
The three soldiers exchanged a look.
The man immediately spoke again.
« Ah… but where are my manners. »
He placed a hand on his chest.
« My name is Helios. I come from the Outer Legion. The one that guards the solar border. »
His gaze shone slightly.
« I have heard much about you. »
The young man with golden hair answered first. His voice was calm and polite.
« A pleasure. »
He slightly inclined his head.
« My name is Aurelion. Commander of the First Celestial Cohort of the royal army. »
The woman with black hair spoke next. Her tone was detached. Almost cold.
« Lyssar. »
A short pause.
« Field strategist. »
Helios nodded.
Then the man with blue hair slightly raised his cup. An amused smile appeared on his face.
« Kaelth. »
He shrugged.
« Vanguard. »
He took a sip of wine.
Then added calmly:
« When a path needed to be opened… »
A slight glint passed through his eyes.
« It was often me. »
Helios observed the three soldiers for a few moments, then pointed to the empty chair at their table.
« May I? »
Aurelion answered him with a simple wave of his hand.
« Of course. It would be a pleasure to share a drink with a soldier who has fought at the enemy borders. »
Helios pulled the chair back calmly and sat down. Aurelion had already filled a cup for him. The dark liquid gave off a rich and intoxicating smell, a mix of fermented star fruits and ancient spices.
Helios raised the cup, observed it for a moment in the golden light of the crystals, then took a sip.
The warmth of the alcohol slid down his throat.
He then set his gaze on the three soldiers.
« So… »
His voice was peaceful. Almost curious.
« What was he… really like? »
The three exchanged a silent look.
Around them, the celebration continued. Laughter broke out, songs echoed against the arches of the bastion. Yet at their table, these noises suddenly seemed distant.
Helios tilted his head slightly.
« The prince, » he resumed softly. « What was he like on the battlefield? »
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
« Was he really like the echoes people tell? »
Aurelion gripped his cup between his fingers. His smile had faded. In its place remained a darker expression.
When he answered, a hint of tension pierced his voice.
« No. »
He inhaled slightly.
« It was worse. »
Lyssar nodded slowly, her eyes lost in a distant memory.
« We were only assigned to his unit at the end of the war, » she said calmly. « Yet… what we saw was more than enough. »
Her fingers slid around her cup.
« Certain battles… no longer looked like battles. »
Helios remained silent, slowly drinking his glass.
His gaze slid toward Kaelth.
He had not yet spoken.
Kaelth remained silent for a long moment. He swirled the wine in his cup slowly, as if searching for the right words somewhere at the bottom of it.
Then he spoke.
« There was an enemy general. One of the most formidable I had ever seen. »
He paused.
« When the prince advanced toward him… he put down his weapon. »
A silence.
« Not in surrender. »
His voice dropped slightly.
« In resignation. »
The word remained suspended in the air.
Around them, the festival continued, but at this table, the laughter seemed muffled by the weight of memory.
Helios remained motionless for a moment.
Then a slight smile, difficult to interpret, formed on his lips.
« I see… »
He raised his cup and took another sip.
His gaze turned for a moment toward the open arches of the bastion, from which one could see the Ivory Isles floating in the cosmic darkness.
« I suppose such massacres must be accompanied by an exceptional strength. »
He raised his eyes toward them.
Aurelion exchanged a look with his companions, then nodded.
« Of course. »
His voice became more grave.
« Whatever one thinks of him… he remains incomparable among the warriors of his generation. »
He gave a bitter smile.
« If I had to face him… I couldn't even hope to cut off an arm. »
Lyssar nodded slightly.
« He is a monster. »
She spoke neither with hatred nor with admiration. Only with lucidity.
« Few beings could really hold their own against him on the battlefield. »
She paused.
« The sacred generals, perhaps. »
Her gaze hardened slightly.
« And even then… how many of them lost their heads trying? »
She shrugged slightly.
« After all, it is not for nothing that they call him the Sun Slayer. »
Kaelth let out a slight approving grunt.
« The war was his playground. »
He swirled his cup in his hand.
« And the enemy… his toys. »
A silence settled around the table.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy with things that did not need to be said.
Aurelion sighed and raised his eyes toward the high arches of the bastion.
« For now? »
He shrugged slightly.
« Drink. Eat. Feast. »
A smile reappeared on his face.
« I think I'll go home for a while. »
His eyes shone with a quiet nostalgia.
« Then I'll return to the army. After all… I am still commander of the Celestial Cohort. »
Lyssar crossed her arms.
« War never truly disappears. »
Her voice was calm.
« It simply changes form. »
She observed the soldiers feasting around them.
« Worlds are broken. Balances have been disrupted. »
She paused.
« Even if the weapons fall silent… the consequences will remain for centuries. »
She slightly raised her head.
« That is why I will stay in the army. To prevent other wars from breaking out. »
Kaelth nodded slowly.
« Entire kingdoms have been erased. Kings are dead. »
He emptied his cup in one gulp.
« Some peoples will seek vengeance. Others will try to fill the void left by those who fell. »
He set the cup on the table.
« My family owns domains. A people. »
His gaze became more serious.
« I will go home. And I will help as I can. »
Helios observed them attentively.
As if he were memorizing each of their faces.
Then he asked:
« And the prince? »
A slight silence fell.
« What image do you think his acts will leave… for the royal family? »
He slightly inclined his head.
« And for peace? »
Aurelion gave a brief laugh.
Joyless.
« I don't know. »
He shrugged.
« But I suppose His Majesty will find a solution. »
He raised his eyes toward the heights of the bastion.
« Our king is strong. And righteous. »
His tone became more assured.
« He is the greatest. »
Lyssar spoke again. Her voice was more grave.
« What the prince did on the battlefield will mark minds. »
She observed the crowd.
« Some will see him as a savior. »
She paused.
« Others… as an omen. »
Her eyes hardened slightly.
« When a war ends in a massacre… the world never completely recovers. »
Kaelth emptied his cup once more.
« In a few years, the songs will speak of victory. »
He raised his eyes toward the open arches.
« But the children born on ravaged worlds… they will not sing. »
A silence settled around the table.
Helios had not spoken for a while.
He simply observed them.
One after another.
As if he were committing something to memory that went far beyond their faces.
Then, slowly, he raised his cup.
The three soldiers raised theirs.
The cups clinked gently.
Around them, the feast continued. Songs rose. Laughter erupted. The Ivory Isles shone with a thousand lights in the cosmic darkness.
But at this table, no one was truly celebrating.
They were simply waiting.
For what came next.
And in the shadow of an archway, far from the light and the noise, Nihraël's silhouette remained perfectly still.
Watching.
Silent.
Indifferent to the victory that the world was celebrating in his name.