After the Battle
The cult forces lay scattered across the ruins, their black armor crumpled and smoking.
Above the cracked earth, the dying sun bled orange into the torn sky.
Kaelen Veylor stood motionless amid the wreckage, sword dripping shadow, his tattered wings hanging limp.
Across from him, brushing cosmic dust off her armor, Zaraya Starheart grinned.
"You're not bad, tall-dark-and-deathly," she said, tossing a broken cult insignia aside.
"Could've been worse. You could've been boring."
Kaelen didn't answer.
He turned away, cleaning his blade with a sharp twist of shadow energy, ready to disappear into the ruins.
"Whoa, hold up, broody," Zaraya called, jogging after him.
"You're seriously just gonna walk off after that team-up masterpiece?"
Kaelen paused.
"We're not a team," he said without turning.
"You got in the way. You survived. That's all."
Zaraya planted her fists on her hips, cosmic pulse humming faintly around her.
"Yeah, and you're welcome, by the way. That spear thing almost took your head off.
I saved your brooding butt."
Kaelen's shoulders stiffened — just slightly.
He hadn't needed saving.
At least, that's what he told himself.
⸻
The Offer
Zaraya caught up to him, walking backward in front of him as he stalked toward the old shuttle yards.
"You're good," she said. "I'll give you that."
"Strong. Fast. Pretty decent dramatic flair."
He didn't respond.
"I'm building a crew," she continued, undeterred. "Not just any crew. The crew.
We're gonna tear across the stars, kick down tyrants, free worlds, maybe find the universe's greatest treasure."
She waggled her eyebrows mischievously.
"And, y'know, have some stupid fun along the way."
Kaelen stopped.
Turned.
The burning violet lights of his eyes met her bright, laughing gaze.
"I'm not interested," he said flatly.
Zaraya blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"Wait.
You're seriously saying no?
To this?"
She gestured grandly to herself, to the stars above, to the future bursting with possibility.
Kaelen's voice was low, almost a growl.
"I don't join crews.
I don't follow banners.
I walk alone.
I survive."
There was no anger in his tone.
Only iron certainty, hammered by betrayal and death.
⸻
The Ghost Behind His Eyes
Zaraya stared at him for a long moment.
She saw it then:
• The deep, carved lines of old wounds behind his words.
• The way he carried his sword — like a shield he couldn't put down.
• The way his wings hung — not broken by battle, but broken by trust betrayed.
Her grin faded into something softer.
Something more human.
"You're not surviving," she said quietly.
"You're just… waiting."
Kaelen's hands clenched at his sides.
She hit closer to the truth than he liked.
Way too close.
Without another word, he turned and strode into the ruins, disappearing into the falling shadows.
⸻
The Spark Refuses to Die
Zaraya watched him go, chewing her lip thoughtfully.
"Stubborn," she muttered.
"I like it."
She wasn't angry.
She wasn't even really surprised.
Freedom wasn't something you handed to someone like a gift.
It had to be fought for.
Earned.
Believed in.
And Kaelen Veylor?
He didn't know it yet…
…but he needed it more than anyone.
"You'll see," she said under her breath, cosmic light flickering brighter around her.
"You need this crew as much as we'll need you."
She turned toward the abandoned shuttle yards, following the last traces of cult activity — and maybe, just maybe, keeping one eye open for a certain grumpy shadow warrior.
The hunt wasn't over.
Not for Kaelen.
Not for the so-called "giant" she still wanted to recruit.
And definitely not for the future they were about to build — together