Ash and Dawn
1861 Words
The floor gave way beneath him, and Lucius fell. He hit stone, rolling among rubble and flame. The world above him dissolved into dust. When he opened his eyes again, he lay at the bottom of a broken hall. Half the citadel had collapsed, sealing the exit.
He tried to stand. Pain exploded through his side where the shadow blade had struck. He pressed a hand to the wound, forcing himself upright. The only light came from the cracks in the wall, glowing faintly with the last pulse of Aliath’s power.
“Morgana…” His voice broke.
There was no answer. Only the echo of his own breath and the groan of the dying citadel.
Lucius staggered to what had once been a window. Through it, he could see the world outside, a black sky, ash drifting like snow, the last glow of the citadel fading into silence.
He was trapped.
But even as exhaustion dragged him down, he clung to one thought. He had seen her, truly seen her for one moment. She was still in there, somewhere beneath the god.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I’ll come back for you,” he whispered, voice breaking into a cough. “No matter what I become.”
Above him, far beyond the mist and ruin, a faint echo answered half human, half divine, a whisper carried on dying wind.
Then hurry… before there’s nothing left of me to save.
And the citadel fell silent.
Silence fell heavy over the ruins of the citadel. The air, once thick with fire and roars, now carried only the hiss of settling dust and the faint echo of collapsing stone. Beneath a mound of shattered marble and iron, Lucius stirred.
Pain flooded his body like molten lead. His ribs ached, his arm hung useless, and every breath came sharp and shallow. He tasted blood on his tongue, thick and bitter. For a moment, he didn’t remember who he was, only that he was alive, and that something unspeakable had taken her.
“Morgana…” he rasped, barely a whisper against the weight of rubble pressing him down.
He clawed upward through debris, fingers raw, tearing at stone and ash until a crack of pale light broke through above him. He pushed harder, driven not by strength but by desperation. Each movement tore through his wounds, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
When he finally broke free, gasping in the gray morning air, the world above him was unrecognizable. The black citadel lay in ruins, its towers snapped like the bones of giants. The sky was split with thunder and veins of red lightning that pulsed from a single point in the throne hall. The air smelled of scorched metal and death
And somewhere within that ruin, she was still alive.
Or something wearing her face was.
Lucius stumbled to his feet, gripping his sword, Heartbane. The blade was chipped and blackened, but it still burned faintly with the runes the dwarves had etched into it. He used it as a crutch to move forward, dragging his battered body across the rubble strewn floor.
“Morgana… I’m coming,” he muttered, his voice cracked but resolute.
Inside the throne hall, Morgana stood upon the fractured dais, her body trembling with the strain of what dwelled within her. Her once-vibrant eyes were twin voids of molten gold, her hair flowing as though alive, caught in a wind that didn’t exist. Every movement of her hands tore cracks through the stone, every breath shimmered with ancient fire.
Aliath was awake.
The ancient beast of ruin now wore her skin.
Yet beneath that monstrous divinity, a flicker of the woman remained a soul buried deep within the storm. Morgana’s consciousness drifted in a sea of darkness, hearing echoes of her own screams, trapped beneath Aliath’s wrath.
Lucius… run. Please run.
But she knew he wouldn’t.
Lucius reached the shattered gates of the throne hall just as another wave of light burst from within. The explosion threw him to his knees, forcing him to shield his eyes. When the glare faded, he looked up and saw her.
“Morgana!”
Her head turned slowly toward him, eyes glowing like suns. Her lips parted, and a voice not hers, rolled out, deep and resonant, shaking the ground.
“You return, mortal? To die before your god?”
Lucius steadied himself, raising his blade. “She’s not your vessel, Aliath. You’ll leave her.
The beast laughed through her mouth, the sound echoing through the ruined hall like thunder in a tomb.
“Leave her? She is me. Her love for you fed me, her pain birthed me. There is no Morgana anymore,only Aliath reborn.”
Lucius’s heart twisted, but he forced the pain down. “Then I’ll carve you out of her if I have to.”
He lunged forward.
The clash was chaos incarnate.
Aliath’s power lashed out in waves of molten light, shattering the marble beneath their feet. Lucius darted through the blasts, his dwarven forged armor melting at the edges. He swung Heartbane, and the blade sang with ancient runes, slicing through the air and striking her shoulder.
She barely flinched.
The wound sealed instantly, glowing gold before vanishing. Morgana no, Aliath smiled, a cruel twist of divine amusement.
“You think mortal steel can sever eternity?”
She raised her hand, and invisible force slammed into Lucius, hurling him across the chamber. He struck a pillar, the impact shattering stone and bone alike. Pain blurred his vision, but he forced himself to rise, spitting blood.
“Maybe not…” he gasped, lifting the sword again. “…but love can.”
He charged once more, fueled by sheer will. Aliath met him halfway, her power colliding with his blade in a blinding flash. Each strike rang through the hall like the tolling of a funeral bell. Stone melted, air burned, shadows screamed.
Lucius fought like a man possessed, driven not by rage, but by grief, by the desperate belief that if he struck hard enough, fast enough, he could bring her back.
But every blow grew weaker.
Every heartbeat slower.
Aliath caught his sword in her bare hand. The blade sizzled against her skin, yet she didn’t flinch.
“You cannot save her,” she whispered, her voice shifting between Morgana’s and the beast’s. “She belongs to me.”
For a moment, Lucius saw it, the flash of her true eyes beneath the gold, filled with pain and love and sorrow.
“Morgana,” he said softly, lowering his sword, “if you can hear me… fight it.”
Her hand trembled. A tear, bright and molten rolled down her cheek. For a heartbeat, Aliath faltered. The light flickered.
Lucius stepped closer. “You promised me forever. Don’t let him take that.”
Her lips parted. A whisper escaped. “…Lucius…”
And then she screamed.
Aliath burst free.
The air split as a monstrous form erupted from Morgana’s body, tearing through the mortal shell. Wings of burning metal unfurled, claws gouging the floor, fangs dripping with molten fire. The citadel shook as Aliath reclaimed his true shape, vast, draconic, divine.
Morgana fell to her knees, her body collapsing, pale and trembling, her breath shallow. Lucius ran to her, dropping to his knees beside her.
She reached for his hand, her touch weak, trembling. “He’s free…” she whispered, tears cutting through the dust on her face. “I couldn’t hold him.”
Lucius gathered her into his arms. “Then I’ll face him. I’ll end this.”
She shook her head faintly. “You can’t. He’s not flesh or flame. He’s bound to my soul. To kill him…
She didn’t finish.
But Lucius understood.
He turned to the beast, towering above them, its eyes burning like suns. It roared, a sound that split the sky, shaking the mountains beyond. Lucius stood, sword in hand, defiant.
“I won’t let you take her!”
Aliath lunged, claws crashing down. Lucius met the blow with Heartbane, the impact sending shockwaves that shattered what was left of the floor. He struck again and again, but the beast’s hide turned the blade. The fight was hopeless, yet he refused to yield.
Every blow he took, every burn, every drop of blood spilled, it didn’t matter. As long as Morgana still breathed, he would fight.
But she saw what he couldn’t: the inevitability. His body was breaking, his strength fading. Each step he took was one closer to death.
She rose weakly, watching him struggle against the god, her heart shattering. She knew what she had to do.
“Morgana!” Lucius shouted, blocking another blow. “Get back!”
Her lips trembled. “I’m sorry…”
He turned, just in time to see her lift Heartbane.
“What are you…no!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed the blade to her chest. “If he lives through me, then I end him with me.”
“Morgana, stop!”
Aliath roared, sensing what she intended. He lunged toward her but Lucius threw himself between them, holding the beast back with the last of his strength.
She smiled softly through her tears. “You gave me a world worth dying for.”
Then she drove the blade through her heart.
The world went silent.
Light burst from her chest, pure, blinding, holy. Aliath screamed, his voice shaking heaven and earth as his form began to unravel, dissolving into ash and fire. The beast’s essence tore apart, consumed by the same love that had birthed him.
Lucius fell to his knees beside her, cradling her as the citadel collapsed around them.
Her breathing slowed, her eyes once bright, now dimming, looked up at him one last time.
“Lucius…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “You… freed me.”
He held her close, pressing his forehead to hers. “No… don’t leave me. Please…”
She smiled faintly. “I’ll never leave you. Not really.”
And then she was gone.
The citadel burned.
Ash fell like snow.
Lucius sat amid the ruins, holding her lifeless body in his arms as the dawn broke through the clouds. The first light of morning bathed the wreckage in gold and crimson, painting the end of their story in quiet beauty.
He looked down at her face, peaceful now, free of the torment that had haunted her. He brushed the hair from her cheek, his tears falling onto her skin.
For a long time, he said nothing. There were no words left. Only silence.
Only love, and loss, and the echo of her final promise.
When the last embers faded, Lucius stood, lifting her in his arms. He carried her from the ruins toward the horizon, where the light met the earth, where perhaps, somewhere beyond, their souls would meet again.
The world was safe.
But his heart was ash.
And in that silence between the last shadow and the new dawn, the legend of Morgana and Lucius was born
the tale of the lovers who defied fate… and paid the price.
- Writer
