Months later, the world had settled into a strange, tentative peace.
The kingdoms that once knelt under Damien Vale's shadow struggled to rebuild. Leaders rose, some good, some terrible, but none ever quite like him. His death left a hole too large for any coward to fill — and too dangerous for any tyrant to claim without a fight.
And Celeste?She didn't stay to watch it happen.
Far away from the bloodstained lands, a small, sun-drenched village buzzed quietly by the sea. It was the kind of place where no one asked where you came from or why your eyes sometimes looked a little too sharp, a little too sad.
It was the perfect place to disappear.Or rather... to begin again.
Celeste sat on the worn wooden porch of a little white cottage.Her dagger — polished, sharp, but unused — hung by the door. A silent promise: never again unless needed.
In her lap, a worn journal lay open. Pages filled with the memories she refused to forget. Names. Places. Choices.Mistakes.Victories.
She wrote because forgetting would be easy. Too easy.And Celeste?She was done taking the easy way out.
A soft knock at the gate pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up — wary, instinctive — but relaxed when she saw a familiar face.
It was Elias.The one who never stopped believing in her, even when she couldn't believe in herself.The one who fought beside her when no one else would.
He grinned, lopsided and boyish, holding up a basket of fruit like some ridiculous peace offering. "Thought you might need a break from brooding."
Celeste chuckled — a real laugh, small but honest. It felt strange and wonderful on her tongue.
Maybe she did deserve a little peace.Maybe survival wasn't the end of the story.Maybe, just maybe, there was life beyond revenge.
She rose from her chair, her body stronger now, her heart lighter.
"Come on then," she called, tossing a glance over her shoulder. "Race you to the shore."
Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted toward the waves, laughing as the wind whipped through her hair.
For the first time in a very, very long time...Celeste wasn't running away from something.
She was running toward something.
Hope.Freedom.A future.
And the world?It better be ready.
Because The Vixen was just getting started.