As Azriel held Elysian close in their final dance, the world around them seemed to fade into nothingness. The garden's light flickered with magic, casting a serene glow on their faces. Elysian, pale and fragile in Azriel's arms, rested his head on his shoulder, his breathing shallow, each breath a struggle. But he smiled, a bittersweet smile that tore at Azriel's heart.
"I will always be with you, Azriel," Elysian whispered, his voice soft and ethereal. "Even after I'm gone, we will be reunited. Nothing can keep us apart—we were made for each other, tied by fate itself."
Azriel's chest tightened, his tears mingling with the soft breeze that carried the scent of the roses around them. His fingers gently traced Elysian's face, committing every detail to memory, every touch, every word. "I can't live in a world without you," he choked, his voice breaking with despair. "I can't..."
Elysian raised his hand and cupped Azriel's face, his thumb gently brushing away the tears. "You will... because you must. Darkness surrounds this world now, and you are its last light." His gaze became more intense, filled with a strength that defied his weakening body. "Whatever happened between you and Irene is in the past, Azriel. You owe her nothing but an end. You have to kill her."
Azriel's heart pounded at the mention of Irene, the woman he had once known, the one who had become his greatest enemy. The mere thought of her clawed at his insides, filling him with rage. "Irene... I'll stop her. I swear, I will end her."
Elysian's lips parted once more, his voice barely a whisper. "Do it for me... do it for the world. End this without me."
Suddenly, a gentle sparkle began to emanate from Elysian's chest, shimmering like stars in the night. The light grew brighter, swirling around them until the garden disappeared in a flash of radiant energy. Azriel and Elysian were transported back to the Mystical Forest, the trees surrounding them like ancient sentinels.
Elysian laid down on a glass table at the heart of the forest, his body glowing faintly with the last remnants of his life. Azriel stood beside him, his fists clenched, his heart pounding. His grief was nearly unbearable, but beneath it, a new emotion surged—hatred.
A sudden clap of thunder echoed through the forest, shaking the ground and sending a chill down Azriel's spine. His eyes flickered upward as dark clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the light. Something inside him told him that Irene was still alive—that she was coming.
"Irene..." Azriel hissed, his voice dripping with venom. His fists tightened, blood running cold with fury.
Sylvara emerged from the trees, her eyes wide with alarm. She glanced at the sky, her face paling. "The evil is coming. Magic is in danger."
As if in response to her words, the ground beneath them trembled violently, and an earthquake rocked the entire forest. The trees shook, their leaves rustling like whispers of warning, as the very earth seemed to groan in fear. From the shadows of the forest, a hideous creature emerged, its wings as black as night, its eyes burning with malevolent fire. The creature's skin was rough and scaly, its claws sharp enough to tear through stone. It let out a deafening roar, its breath reeking of death and decay.
And on its back, Irene sat, regal and powerful, her eyes glowing with dark magic. She was dressed in flowing black robes that shimmered with an unnatural energy, her hair cascading around her like a crown of darkness. Her presence was overwhelming, filling the forest with a sense of dread.
Irene descended from the creature, her feet touching the ground with a grace that belied the evil that radiated from her. She looked at the weakened Elysian and then at Azriel, her lips curling into a triumphant smile.
"Step aside," she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "Watch as magic goes extinct."
Azriel's eyes blazed with fury, and he laughed bitterly. "Over my dead body."
Without hesitation, he summoned the forbidden magic of the dead witches—the blood spell, a weapon of immense power that had been passed down through his bloodline. The air around him crackled with dark energy as he raised his hand, and the blood of the dead witches coursed through his veins, amplifying his strength.
The magic surged through him, and with a furious cry, Azriel unleashed the spell. A wave of blood-red energy shot toward Irene, its force tearing through the air with lethal intent. Irene's eyes widened, but she was quick, her body shifting as she dodged the attack with ease. The blast hit the ground behind her, sending shards of earth flying into the sky.
Sylvara rushed toward Elysian, her heart pounding in her chest. "We need to get you to safety!" she urged, grabbing his arm.
But Elysian shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No. I must stay. I must play my part in this."
Meanwhile, Irene raised her hands, dark magic swirling around her fingertips. She chanted under her breath, summoning the power of the Shadow Spell, a forbidden spell of immense power. The ground beneath her feet trembled as the spell took form, its energy crackling in the air.
Azriel, with the blood of the witches flowing through him, fought back with all his might. His power was immense, and for a moment, it seemed as though he was overpowering Irene. She gritted her teeth, struggling to keep up with his relentless assault. But she wasn't done yet.
With a flick of her wrist, Irene unleashed the Shadow Spell, the dark energy spiraling toward Azriel. But something unexpected happened—the spell backfired, exploding in her hands with a deafening blast. The force of the explosion sent shockwaves through the forest, and Azriel was thrown back, a sharp, burning pain ripping through his body. He gasped, clutching his side as blood poured from a deep wound.
The explosion tore through the trees, consuming them in flames. A loud, piercing scream echoed through the forest as Sylvara cried out, her voice filled with anguish. She fell to her knees, her hands clutching her head as the magic of the forest was destroyed before her eyes.
Irene, her face twisted with fury, turned toward Sylvara. "You'll die for that," she spat, her voice venomous. With a wave of her hand, she unleashed the full force of her magic, the shadows consuming Sylvara in an instant. The forest guardian let out a final, blood-curdling scream before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.
Azriel watched in horror, his body trembling with pain and rage. But amid the chaos, one thing remained untouched—Elysian. He stood at the center of it all, untouched by the destruction, a serene smile on his lips.
"I guess you're going with me, Irene," Elysian said softly, his voice carrying an otherworldly power.
Azriel, wounded and weak, struggled to his feet. Blood dripped from his wound, but he refused to fall. He couldn't—he wouldn't. Not while Elysian was still standing.
Elysian raised his hand, and from within him, a blinding light erupted. The light spread across the forest, its radiance piercing through the darkness, engulfing Irene in its brilliance. Irene's eyes widened in shock as the light began to flare, searing her skin, dismembering her body piece by piece.
"No!" she screamed, her voice filled with agony as the light consumed her. Her body twisted and contorted as it was torn apart, her bones cracking, her flesh disintegrating. The pain was unimaginable, her screams echoing through the forest as the light flared brighter and brighter.
Elysian, his body glowing with the last of his strength, stood tall as Irene's form disintegrated into ash. Her reign of terror was over, her life ended by the very magic she had sought to destroy.
But the cost was great.
As the light dimmed, Elysian's body began to wither away. His once strong and beautiful form crumbled, his skin turning to petals—delicate, fragile, and fleeting. The petals fell gently to the ground, carried away by the wind, until nothing was left but a faint shimmer in the air.
Azriel collapsed to his knees, his heart shattering as he watched Elysian fade into nothingness. "No... no, no, no!" he screamed, his voice raw with pain. He pounded his fists into the ground, his body trembling with grief. "You can't leave me! Not like this!"
But it was over. Elysian was gone.
As the last of the petals disappeared, a voice echoed through the forest—Elysian's voice, soft and gentle, filled with love. "I've left my powers behind. They are the only thing that can bring back the pure magic. And no matter what, Azriel... don't raise up any Black Dragon entity. They are pure evil. Remember, I love you."
Azriel's tears flowed freely as the words echoed in his mind. He looked down and saw, lying in the grass where Elysian had once stood, a silver necklace—beautiful and stunning, glowing with the last of Elysian's essence.
Azriel clutched the necklace to his chest, his sobs wracking his body. "I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. The weight of the world settled on his shoulders, and for a moment, he felt utterly lost. Elysian, the one he loved, was gone—reduced to petals, his essence contained in a simple, beautiful necklace.
Azriel's fingers trembled as he held the necklace, its silver chain glinting in the fading light of the Mystical Forest. The forest itself had grown eerily silent, the remnants of the battle still lingering in the air. Irene was gone, her dark magic vanquished by the very light she had sought to destroy, but at what cost? The trees, the magic that had once pulsed through the earth, were now lifeless, burnt to ash by the destruction of the shadow spell.
He stood, his legs weak beneath him, but his determination burning brighter than ever. He looked around, his gaze falling on the scorched remains of the forest, the lifeless body of Sylvara lying amongst the wreckage. Everything had been destroyed, consumed by the price of power.
But Elysian's final words echoed in his mind.
"I left my powers behind, and it's the only thing that can bring back the pure magic…"
Azriel held the necklace tightly in his palm. This was the key. This was Elysian's gift—his legacy. The last spark of magic in a world now consumed by darkness. He couldn't let it end here. He had to find a way to restore what had been lost, to bring back the magic that the world so desperately needed.
But there was something else, something darker in Elysian's final message.
"And no matter what, don't raise up any Black Dragon entity. They are pure evil."
Azriel shuddered. He knew what Elysian meant—he had seen firsthand the devastation the Black Dragons had wrought, the darkness that had crept into the world under Irene's reign. He couldn't allow them to rise again. He couldn't let the Black Dragon cult, or anything like it, ever return to power.
As he stood there, the weight of the silver necklace in his hand, Azriel felt a renewed sense of purpose. Elysian may have been gone, but his spirit lived on through the magic he had left behind. The world still had a chance—a fragile, fleeting chance to be saved.
Azriel took a deep breath, wiping the last of his tears away. He looked up at the sky, where the clouds had begun to part, revealing a faint glimmer of light. Perhaps it was a sign—a reminder that there was still hope, even in the face of such overwhelming loss.
"I won't let your sacrifice be in vain, Elysian," Azriel whispered. "I'll make sure the world remembers your name."
The Mystical Forest was still, but Azriel knew that somewhere, deep within its heart, the magic was waiting—waiting to be restored, waiting for its chance to bloom once more.
He placed the necklace around his neck, feeling its warmth settle against his skin. It was a small comfort, a reminder that Elysian was still with him in some way, even if only in spirit. With one last glance at the ruined forest, Azriel turned and walked away, his heart heavy but his resolve stronger than ever.
He would find a way to bring back the magic. He would protect the world from the darkness that threatened to consume it.
And no matter what it took, he would honor Elysian's final wish.
The world would rise again—reborn from the ashes, just like the magic that had once filled it. And Azriel would be there to ensure that light triumphed over darkness.
As the last traces of sunlight faded from the sky, Azriel disappeared into the shadows, the silver necklace glowing softly against his chest—the last spark of hope in a world teetering on the edge of oblivion.
But as this took place Azriel has no idea that the black dragons are still operating when Irene was killed he thought the black dragons will vanish out of trace but the evil cult was still existing following the footsteps of Irene their Queen, and it was horrendous and horrifying.