The aftermath of the battle was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft groans of defeated mercenaries and the flicker of Celestia's fading light magic. The forest seemed to breathe again, as though it had been holding still for the outcome. Xander stood at the center, his sword still glowing faintly with the dark flames that refused to die out.
"Xander," Celestia said gently, approaching him cautiously. Her radiant wings folded behind her as she studied his face. "You did well, but… you have to let go of that power now."
He looked at her, his jaw tightening. "I can't. Not yet."
"You can." Her tone was calm but firm, her golden eyes locking onto his. "This isn't who you are. You're stronger than whatever this is trying to make you into."
Xander's grip on his sword tightened, the dark flames flickering uncertainly. He wanted to believe Celestia's words, but deep inside, the darkness called to him. It wasn't just power—it was a promise. A promise of strength, of revenge, of freedom from weakness.
"Xander," Celestia said again, stepping closer. Her voice was soft now, pleading. "Please. Trust me. You don't need this."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Slowly, he willed the flames to subside. The black energy around his sword faded, leaving only the cold steel. He felt a pang of loss as the power left him, but he forced himself to focus on Celestia's warm, reassuring presence.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I can't let it control me."
Behind him, Aria sheathed her daggers, her emerald eyes still sharp as she surveyed the battlefield. "That was a little close, don't you think?" she muttered. "You keep playing with that fire, and one day it's going to burn you."
Xander glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. But it's the only fire I have."
Aria frowned but said nothing more. She turned to Celestia, her voice dropping. "We need to move. Galen and his men might not be the only ones tracking us."
Celestia nodded. "She's right. The longer we stay here, the more vulnerable we are."
Xander looked at the unconscious body of Galen, his former comrade, lying sprawled among the defeated mercenaries. The insignia on Galen's armor burned into his mind—a reminder of a past he could never truly escape.
"What do we do with him?" Xander asked, his voice hard.
Celestia hesitated, her compassion warring with practicality. "He's too dangerous to leave here. But killing him…"
"I'll handle it," Aria said coldly, stepping forward.
"No." Xander's voice was sharp, commanding. "He was one of us once. I'll decide what happens to him."
A Choice of Mercy
Galen stirred as Xander crouched beside him, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. The man's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, confusion flashed across his face. Then recognition dawned, and he smirked despite the blood at the corner of his mouth.
"Still the same Xander," Galen rasped. "Always hesitating. Always trying to do the 'right' thing."
Xander's jaw clenched. "You came after us. After me. Why?"
"You know why," Galen said, his voice low and bitter. "You have something they want. Something they're afraid of."
"The darkness," Xander murmured.
Galen nodded weakly. "They're afraid of what you'll become. And they should be."
Xander stared at him for a long moment, his mind racing. He could feel Celestia and Aria watching him, waiting to see what he would do.
Finally, he stood and sheathed his sword. "Leave. And don't follow us again."
Galen's smirk faltered. "You're letting me go?"
"You were my friend once," Xander said. "I'm giving you one chance. Don't waste it."
Galen's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as he struggled to his feet. With a final glance at Xander, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
"You really think he won't come after us again?" Aria asked, crossing her arms.
"No," Xander admitted. "But I needed to show myself that I could make a choice. That I'm still in control."
A Dangerous Alliance
The group moved quickly, leaving the battlefield behind. The Shadowlands grew darker as they pressed on, the air heavy with the weight of unseen eyes watching their every move.
As they walked, Aria broke the silence. "That insignia on Galen's armor. I've seen it before."
Xander glanced at her. "You have?"
She nodded, her tone grim. "Back in the eastern territories. There's a rumor that a powerful faction is gathering forces—mercenaries, soldiers, even beasts. They're preparing for something big. And they're hunting for rare bloodlines."
Celestia frowned. "Rare bloodlines? You mean like…"
"Like Xander," Aria said bluntly.
Xander's hand unconsciously went to the pendant around his neck—a simple, unassuming trinket that he had carried for as long as he could remember. It was the only clue to his heritage, and the thought of it being tied to the darkness within him made his stomach twist.
"If that's true," Xander said, his voice steady, "then we need to find out who's behind it. And stop them."
Aria raised an eyebrow. "You think it's that simple? Whoever they are, they have resources. An army. And if they're targeting you, it's because they know how dangerous you could be."
"Then we'll make them regret it," Xander said, a spark of determination in his eyes.
A Glimpse of Light
That night, the group set up camp in a small clearing. Celestia insisted on taking the first watch, her golden light keeping the shadows at bay.
As Xander lay beneath the stars, he couldn't shake the feeling that the darkness within him was growing stronger. But for the first time, he also felt something else—a faint glimmer of hope.
Celestia's words from earlier echoed in his mind. "You're stronger than whatever this is trying to make you into."
He looked over at her, her radiant form illuminated by the firelight. She caught his gaze and smiled softly, a warmth in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time.
"We'll figure this out," she said quietly.
Xander nodded, his resolve strengthening. "I know."
As sleep finally claimed him, his dreams were filled with images of fire and shadow, of battles yet to come and choices that would define his fate. But amidst the chaos, he saw a light—a faint, guiding star that refused to be extinguished.