Chaos and tragedy were running wild through the realm. Just how she had planned…

The high seat of the Trinial Accord, the Sepulchral Crown, was on fire. Oaths sealed in water bubbles unraveled and spilled over the edges of the floating isle. Celestial memories, once protected, now bled and screamed back into the ashy skies. Colorful illusions went up in flames. 

And Asra watched it all burn, in her hand were the shards of the First Memory - an object that she betrayed the world for. A globed magic that both burned and cooled her flesh. She stepped down the fractured marble steps. 

Lightning cracked above, and Asra’s descent faltered as she felt her chameleon gleaming magic crack and splinter off her skin like pieces of glass - finally revealing her true self to the world. 

There were cries, echoes, shouts as the neutrality of the Accord was broken. A pact that had been held for thousands of years. 

With a step, she thought of the whispers- the rumors that this would be the last accord. The hostility that plagued the three high houses was palpable in the ballroom tonight.

At least, that is what Asra told herself as the guilt swallowed her. 

Bile rose in her throat as she looked around. The Sepulchral Crown had been the most beautiful place in the world once, a place where all three courts could share their magic freely. The unnatural flames of Dusk court magic ate away at the once pristine star-kissed marble. The angry tides of Tidal court magic drained the water from the fountains and waterfalls, leaving an ashy desert in its wake. The star magic that brightened the skies once faded, leaving only darkness behind. 

She felt the First Memory in her hand swirl and bounce against the glass orb that contained it. She gripped it tightly as she continued down the steps, her tattered cloak whipping in the air behind her. 

The dazzling mirrored bridge that appeared only once a century to connect the lower lands and the sky isle was cracking, pieces shattering into the depths below. She had to hurry. There was no other way for her to get back to the Rusted Hollow - her home. 

Picking up the pace, she skidded to a stop as a Solari soldier in bronzed armor charged. Fierce magic burst and exploded from his flaming sword as he attacked a Celestine soldier in obsidian and silver. The Moon Knight raised an arm to parry the attack with a burst of starbeam energy.

The force of the magic seared her skin as she pivoted down another street. She needed to get to the bridge.

Screams surrounded her. Her skin burned with the heat of the flames that burned on all sides. Clashes of metal on metal. Smoke and ash from wasted magic filled her lungs so that she choked. 

Move. 

A scantily-clad woman of the Dusk court screamed as she was chased by a Tidal soldier - her trident raised high as the shells in her armor gleamed. 

Asra turned away, only to freeze at the figure that leapt from the shadows. He twirled two short swords, deflecting the trident’s blow, as starry flames surrounded the Tidal soldier, her screams dying as she was enveloped in angry aurora colors - the celestial magic sucking her soul and her memories from its mortal coil. Her pale, empty body crumpled on the ground as the magic seeped back into him.

Aeron. His sweaty dark hair was plastered to his skin, his unnaturally bright eyes turned to the Dusk Court woman as she rocked herself back and forth in the dirt. 

“You need to get out of here-” Aeron murmured, reaching down towards her. The woman recoiled, turning her accusing dark eyes to him, tears streaming down her ash-stained skin.

“Get away from me!” She spat, looking at the soldier’s body at his feet,“you’re all monsters!” Scrambling to her feet, she fled - further into the chaos. 

Aeron’s eyes shut for the briefest of moments, and he shook his head as he sheathed both of his swords. Here he was, the celestial heir, in the heart of the chaos - jumping to the defense of people who weren’t even his own. 

The First Memory vibrated fiercely in her hand as Asra clutched it tightly, her fingers shaking. 

He was still a spoiled prince, she reminded herself. He was still a noble. A high born. Beautiful beyond words. Privileged.

She quickly turned, darting back from where she came.

“Stop!” She heard his voice behind her. There was no way he spoke to her. Now with her gleaming magic shattered, no one had seen her real face.

“Asra!” She froze. 

How…? 

Glancing over her shoulder, Aeron stood behind her - one sword in his hand. His bright blue eyes found hers, his expression twisted in a mask of rage. 

You are so beautiful… He had whispered to her, only hours before. In that moment, she truly felt like he had seen the real her. Now here they stood. The space between them filled with lies and betrayal. 

“This is your fault,” he seethed, “you have betrayed the Accord. The First Memory,” he raised his sword, the point at her throat, “give it to me.” 

“I don’t think I’m going to do that,” she quipped, hoping she could keep her tone teasing so she wouldn’t betray her pain, her guilt, “I worked so hard to get it you know.”  

Lightning flashed again.

“You think this is funny?” He growled, “you think that people dying, screaming in agony as their homes are destroyed is funny?” He charged toward her, and Asra’s heart jumped into her throat as he invaded her space. She fumbled for the dagger at her thigh, but he was too quick. Too angry. 

Pain shot up her back as he forced her against a wall - cracked marble dug into her skin as the tip of his sword pressed to her throat. 

His eyes bore into her, as if he could see past her into her soul. His body pressed against hers. 

“Why, Asra?” He demanded, a plea behind his words as his features crumpled. As if this was the first time he had ever faced hardship. She hardened. 

“You think this is agony?” She hissed, “you know nothing of pain. Nothing of suffering.” The First Memory burned in her palm at her words. “Maybe it’s time you learned.” His eyes widened, his sword wavering. She saw the wheels in his head turn.

She saw his hesitation. Without another moment to lose, she loosed the dagger and slashed toward him. He cursed and jumped back, red beginning to seep from an open cut in his tunic. 

A flesh wound, she knew. She reeled backwards, further into the shadows. Away from him.

He stared at her, betrayal and pain raging in his gaze. Pain seared her, white-hot and sharp. But he would never know that he got to her. 

They were always enemies, even if he didn’t know it, they were. 

Even if she desperately wished it could be different.

They’re not like us. She remembered those words. Branded them to memory. It was how she got through this night. She had to remember what all this was for.

Who this was for. 

Aeron stumbled, clutching his abdomen. He stared at her, hand clutching his sword as she ran from him. He could have followed her. 

But there he stood. There he stayed. A bitter sob worked its way up her throat. 

He let her go. She could have killed him, but didn’t. He could have chased her once more, but he didn’t. 

The next time they saw each other, if they ever saw each other again - that would not happen again. One of them would have to die.