The cacophony of battle had faded, replaced by a chilling silence punctuated only by the moans of the wounded and the crackling embers of dying fires. Amidst the carnage, Gareth lay still, his chest barely rising and falling. Bile rose in my throat, churning with a potent mix of grief and fury. We had won, pushed back the darkness, but at what cost?
My gaze darted across the battlefield, searching for the spark of defiance that had saved us. There, amidst the throngs of weary soldiers, knelt a young squire, the staff now lying dormant beside her. Anya, stood protectively by her side, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Anya," I rasped, my voice hoarse from exertion. "Organize the cleanup. Tend to the wounded, gather the dead. Make sure no abomination stirs."
She met my gaze, her normally bright eyes clouded with worry. "And you, Azrael?"
"Gareth," I choked out, gesturing towards the fallen hero. "He… he's fading."
Understanding flickered in her eyes. "I'll fetch Captain Amara. She's the best healer among the Knights."
As Anya hurried away, I knelt beside Gareth, the weight of his cooling body a physical manifestation of the despair threatening to consume me. But I couldn't succumb to it. Not yet. Not when a flicker of life still pulsed within him.
Drawing upon the ancient well of magic within me, I wove a complex healing spell. Tendrils of emerald energy emanated from my fingertips, bathing Gareth's wounds in a soothing light. But the darkness that had seeped into him clung stubbornly, resisting my efforts.
His eyelids fluttered weakly, and a raspy breath escaped his lips. "Azrael…"
"Hold on, friend," I urged, pouring more power into the spell, the strain etching lines on my face. "Don't give in yet."
"The… portal…" he coughed, his voice barely a whisper. "She… closed it…"
A surge of pride swelled within me, momentarily pushing back the despair. "Yes, Gareth. The young squire. Anya called her…"
"Liana," he rasped, the name a fading echo. "Remember… the flames… must never…"
His voice trailed off, his breathing becoming shallow. Panic clawed at my throat. I couldn't lose him. Not now, not when the darkness had been pushed back, when hope, however fragile, had begun to bloom anew.
Doubling my efforts, I channeled every ounce of remaining energy into the spell. The world around me blurred, my vision swimming with exhaustion. But I couldn't falter. Not for Valoria, not for the light that Gareth embodied.
Then, a faint tremor ran through him. His chest rose and fell with a hint of strength, the color returning to his pale cheeks ever so slightly. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. He wasn't out of the woods yet, but the tide was turning.
Captain Amara arrived then, her face grim but determined. Together, we redoubled our efforts, working through the night, weaving spells and administering potions. Hours bled into days, the tension thick in the makeshift infirmary. Yet, with each sunrise, Gareth's grip on life strengthened, the spark in his eyes rekindled.
Finally, the day arrived when he could speak again, his voice raspy but filled with newfound resolve. "Liana…" he whispered, his gaze searching the room.
Liana, who had stayed by his side vigilantly, stepped forward. "Here, Sir Gareth," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
He smiled weakly. "Thank you, child. You saved us all."
A tear rolled down Liana's cheek, but her jaw was set firm. "We saved each other, Sir Gareth," she said, her voice surprisingly strong. "Just like Valorian heroes always do."
His smile widened, a spark of the old Gareth returning. "Indeed," he rasped. "The flames of Valoria still burn. And they will never truly die."
As Gareth spoke those words, a warmth spread through me, chasing away the remnants of despair. The battle might be won, but the war was far from over. Yet, seeing the defiance in Gareth's eyes, the newfound strength in Liana's stance, I knew that Valoria's spirit remained unbroken. The flames of hope, rekindled in the ashes of war, would continue to burn, fueled by the courage of its heroes, young and old. And I, Azrael, the undying flame, would stand beside them, until our very last breath.