Flames danced across the living room walls, curling up like monstrous fingers. Smoke clouded his vision, thick and acrid. Somewhere beyond the choking haze, he heard the faint, desperate cries of a child.
"Daddy!"
Paul ran, feet bare against splintering wood. The ceiling cracked. Fire licked the walls, and the smell of burning flesh made his stomach churn. He reached for the bedroom door—
It was too late.
He woke with a gasp.
Paul sat upright, drenched in sweat, his breath ragged. The fire was gone. No smoke. No cries. Just the chirping of insects and the gentle sway of leaves above him. Sunlight trickled through a dense canopy of glowing trees.
He gripped the sheets beneath him, heart thudding in his ears. A nightmare. Again.
But it hadn't been just a dream.
It was a memory. A cruel echo of the day everything ended.
He was not of this world. He came from Earth—more precisely, the version of Earth that existed before all this. A simple life. A family. A modest job. Then one night, fire took it all. A freak electrical short, they had said. No survivor. Everything turned into ash. Full of grief and sadness.
He remembered standing outside the ruins, hollow and broken. Grieving and regretting. That was when she appeared.
Luna.
The Demon Lord, cloaked in shadow and sorrow. She spoke not with cruelty but with understanding. She offered him a choice—not salvation, but a chance. A bargain.
Serve her, collect the fragments of the old gods, and she would grant him the power to undo what had been lost.
To see them again. To be with them again.
He accepted.
But no one knew the truth. Not Kaela. Not the people they saved. No one understood the weight he carried.
Paul looked around, taking in the scenery for the first time. The air was filled with shimmering dust, like floating stars. The trees had silver leaves that hummed faintly, and the forest floor glowed with faint bioluminescence. It was like waking in a dream.
Kaela lay nearby, bandaged and resting. Her chest rose and fell steadily.
He exhaled in relief.
"Good. You're awake."
The voice was soft and melodic, like wind through crystal.
Paul turned to see a figure standing nearby. Barely two feet tall, with wings that shimmered like prisms and hair the color of moonlight. Her eyes, large and violet, shimmered with a strange wisdom.
She was a fairy.
"Where are we?" he asked, still groggy.
"You're in Elariel—the Hidden Grove. A sacred place, unseen by mortals for centuries," the fairy said. "I brought you here."
"You… saved us?"
She nodded. "You were about to die. Ardyn does not show mercy."
Paul's hands clenched. "Why?"
The fairy fluttered closer, her gaze intense. "Because I know why you fight. Why you obey Luna."
His heart skipped. "What do you mean?"
She gave a sad smile. "Your pain is like a scar on your soul. I saw it the moment I touched your essence. The fire, the loss, the despair. She made you a promise, didn't she?"
Paul looked away.
"She told you she could bring them back."
Silence.
"Yes," he whispered.
The fairy sat on a glowing mushroom near him. "My name is Sylari. I am one of the last of the starborn fey. Long ago, we served the gods of this world, before the war of creation shattered the realms. I have watched mortals rise and fall, consumed by grief and vengeance."
She leaned forward. "But you… your grief is different. It anchors you. Luna knew that."
Paul looked at her, guarded. "So what do you want from me?"
"I want to help you make the right choice," she said.
"You don't know what I've seen. What I've done. I don't care about saving the world. I just want my family back."
"I do know," Sylari said gently. "But that wish has a cost, Paul. Luna's power is not boundless. If she truly brings them back… will they be the same? Will you?"
He remained silent.
Sylari stood. "You are not bound to her. The path you've taken… it can still be changed. You're searching for the fragments, yes. But do you even know what they are?"
He shook his head.
"They are not just pieces of power. They are memories—remnants of what once held the balance of this world. When gathered, they can reshape reality… or destroy it."
Paul's thoughts spun. "And Luna wants to use them to bring chaos back."
"Or to rewrite the world in her image," Sylari said. "Just as Ardyn seeks to reshape it with order. But both paths are extremes. Neither will bring your family back without consequence."
Paul stared at the glowing trees. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
Sylari floated up to his shoulder. "Continue. Find the fragments. Learn the truth. And when the time comes… choose not with your grief, but with your heart."
A long silence passed.
Kaela stirred in her sleep, mumbling something unintelligible.
Paul stood slowly, gripping his sword. The fragment pulsed faintly in his satchel.
He turned to Sylari. "You knew who I was. You could've left me there. Why help me?"
"Because the world doesn't need another tyrant," she said. "It needs someone who remembers love."
He blinked at that.
And for the first time in a long while, something flickered in his chest. Not fire. Not vengeance.
Hope.
He turned back to the woods, the golden leaves whispering in the wind.
"I'm going to get them back," he said quietly. "No matter what. Even if I have to walk through hell again."
Sylari watched him, eyes thoughtful. "Then let's make sure you walk with open eyes."
The fairy forest shimmered around them, secret and sacred. A place no human had ever stepped foot into.
And now, a human carried a fragment of the gods into its heart.
The road ahead would be harder.
But Paul had made his choice.
He would see his family again.
No matter what it cost.