Azeal stood at the threshold of the Final Gate, his hand locked in Vaelora's. The golden light from the Abyss was blinding, pulsating like the heartbeat of a dying star.
"One must remain. One must lead," the Spirit's voice thundered, shaking the very air. "To open the path for the blood of Aetheron, a sacrifice of the highest order is required. Give me what you cherish most."
Azeal didn't hesitate. He stepped in front of Vaelora, shielding her from the crushing pressure of the gate. "I renounce the throne," he shouted, his voice echoing with a clarity that silenced the wind. "Take my name, my future, and my right to rule. Just let her live. Let her be free of this darkness."
Behind him, Vaelora's eyes fluttered open. She heard his words—every selfless, heartbreaking syllable. No, Azeal, she thought, her heart shattering. You are the hope of the Seven Kingdoms. Without you, Malakor and his father will burn the world to ashes.
She knew what she had to do. She believed Azeal was the true heir, the only one who could stop the coming war. If the gate needed a soul to open, she would give hers so he could become the King the world needed.
"I accept the price," Vaelora whispered, stepping forward before Azeal could stop her.
She placed her palm against the cold stone of the gate. In that moment, the Zarethian Trial recognized her—not just as a princess, but as the True Royal Blood it had been waiting for. But Vaelora didn't know. She only felt her memories, her feelings, and her very essence being pulled into the stone.
"Vaelora, no!" Azeal screamed, reaching for her.
But it was too late. A massive explosion of white and gold light erupted. The Final Gate, which had stayed shut for centuries, groaned and swung wide open.
Azeal felt himself being pulled through the portal by a force he couldn't resist. He reached out, his fingers brushing Vaelora's, but she was fading. Her eyes, once full of love for him, were becoming vacant, like a sky losing its stars.
"Azeal..." she whispered, her voice sounding like it was coming from miles away. "Rule... for me."
The light consumed everything. When Azeal finally hit the floor on the other side, he was no longer in the Abyss. He was at the base of the High Throne of Drazhin. But when he looked beside him, Vaelora was there, standing like a statue. She was alive, but when she looked at him, there was no recognition. No love.
The woman who had sacrificed everything for him didn't even know his name.