Through Flame and Time

Over Snowrest, gray clouds hung low, as if the entire city held its breath, awaiting the judgment of fate.

When Aveline was carried back to the main hall, her blood had congealed into frost, and her entire arm hung limp where the wound had reopened. Lucian took her in his arms the moment he saw her, almost tearing his own cape to wrap her tightly, his voice hoarse: "Hurry—summon Kalia."

When Kalia arrived, her face paled at the sight: "She's lost too much blood. Her pulse is erratic. We must clean the wound immediately."

"Save her." Lucian clasped Aveline's hand, as if willing her back from the brink of death with sheer force.

For six straight hours, Kalia and two physicians worked without pause. Outside the hall, General Vidal stood guard despite his injuries, while soldiers kept watch in the corridor, too tense to speak above a whisper.

At dusk, Kalia finally emerged, exhausted but resolute: "She survived."

Lucian staggered, nearly collapsing with relief.

"But she needs seven days of complete rest. No shocks, no anger—and absolutely no returning to battle."

"I'll guard her myself," Lucian vowed.

Meanwhile, chaos consumed the enemy camp.

With the Regent mortally wounded, command dissolved into stagnation. Lieutenant Kerviss attempted a power grab, only to be countered by Commander Halsen, igniting hidden infighting.

Most crucially, Snowrest still stood—and rumors spread that Aveline lived.

"That woman is reborn from cursed fire," soldiers whispered. "She killed the commander, walked through flames, and came back alive."

Morale crumbled, with multiple unauthorized retreats.

On the third day of Aveline's coma, a council convened in Snowrest.

Standing in the hall, Vidal declared to the officials: "Aveline's life was spared by the heavens. In this hour, the kingdom must still fight."

Lucian followed: "The enemy camp is in disarray. The Regent's wounds may be fatal. If we strike now, we can shatter their foundations."

The council erupted in debate. Some nobles urged negotiation, but most rallied for counterattack.

"We can't wait," Kalia stated firmly. "If Aveline wakes to find us idle, she'll never forgive us—and she nearly died for this cause."

A decision was made. Lucian armored up, leading 5,000 elite troops in a silent departure at dawn on the fifth day.

Aveline woke at dusk on the sixth day.

Her eyes fluttered open to snowflake carvings on the ceiling. After a moment of disorientation, she remembered returning.

"You're awake." Kalia sat by the bed, eyes red-rimmed.

Aveline turned painfully, voice husky "Lucian...?"

"He marched to war five days ago."

Aveline tried to rise, but pain forced her back.

"You must rest." Kalia held her down. "I haven't dared give you his letter yet."

Aveline stared, fingers trembling: "Give it to me."

After a pause, Kalia placed the letter in her hand. The handwriting was as sharp as a blade, just a few lines:

"You once risked death for Snowrest; I'll walk into flames for you.

If I do not return, pardon my choice in the name of the crown.

—Lucian"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Folding the letter, she murmured: "You will not die."

"Send orders," she told Kalia. "I join the army tomorrow."

Kalia gasped: "You aren't healed!"

"But I can't wait." Aveline clenched her teeth, eyes burning like fire. "If he falls in battle, I'll join him in death."

As night fell like flames, a queen rose from her sickbed, reigniting her march through the embers and snow.