—Amiya's Point of View
The skies over Nyuga were not meant to bleed.
Amiya had seen wars before—celestial disputes, mortal rebellions, even starborn crusades. But nothing like this. Nothing like what the Nayron Kings unleashed.
She stood on the sacred balcony of the Observatory Temple, her wings folded tight, her spirit trembling. From here, she saw the flames devour the horizon. Nyuga—the peaceful realm of the Nitine people—was being consumed.
And it was her fault.
---
Hours earlier...
Amiya had warned the Council. She had seen visions in the Loom of Light—dark fire creeping across the plains, thunder cracking from dead skies, orcs bred in molten pits. She knew Monshin and the Imperial Paladins were plotting to eliminate the Nitine.
But the Council dismissed her. "You are Hope," they said. "Not War."
So she disobeyed.
She flew to Nyuga alone.
---
The Nitine were already preparing.
The three Nayron Kings—Myuthor, Namgari, Ondharo—descended with their armies like elemental plagues. Thunder split the heavens. Fire rained. Savage orcs howled across the forests.
In the underground of a small village, she found them.
Darius and Sylaya Salurga.
And their infant son—Matt.
His cry was not one of fear. It was rage. A spark of divine energy—still dormant but undeniable—flared around him.
Sylaya pressed the infant into Amiya's arms.
> "Take him. They'll find us. He's our only legacy."
Amiya hesitated. She wasn't meant to interfere.
> "He has the blood of Nitine. If the Council—"
Darius grabbed her arm. "He has more than that. He has yours."
Amiya froze.
> "You don't remember, do you? That day at the River of Echoes… You weren't alone."
Her wings trembled.
The walls shook. The roof collapsed. A thunder spear impaled the room above.
Darius shoved Amiya into the escape tunnel.
> "GO!"
Flames engulfed the surface.
---
Present.
Amiya flew over the ruins, Matt clutched tight to her chest. Nyuga was burning. Entire cities vaporized by firestorms. Orcs tore through defenders. Nitine warriors fell by the hundreds.
She saw Sylaya's soul rise in the flame.
Darius's broken blade in the mud.
The Paladins had ordered this.
She couldn't save anyone.
But she could save him.
> "I'm sorry, my son," she whispered. "I'll give you the world they took from you… even if the gods curse me for it."
And she disappeared—into light, into lawlessness, into hiding.