Part 1: Ashes of Dawn
Morning came slowly to Paris. A thin layer of ash drifted across the ruined boulevards, settling on rooftops, statues, broken cars. The golden veins that had pulsed violently through the night were now dull and fading, leaving behind scorched trails in the streets like scars of a dream that had burned too bright. Elara stood on the balcony of the recovered safehouse, overlooking the quiet stretch of the city. Her arms wrapped around herself, though the morning wasn't cold. She was trying to steady her heartbeat. Trying to believe the night had truly ended. Bill slept inside, resting for the first time since the war began. He had collapsed after the final burst of power — wings dimming, breath faint but steady. Even unconscious, the faint glow around him had lingered, flickering like an ember refusing to die. Elara turned at the sound of soft footsteps. It was Cassian, the Order's healer. Young, sharp-eyed, always too serious. "How is he?" she asked before he could speak. Cassian lowered his gaze respectfully. "Alive. Which… in the state you brought him back, is a miracle in itself." He hesitated. "His power nearly consumed him." Elara's throat tightened. "I felt it. When he unleashed everything… I thought it would swallow him." Cassian gave a small nod. "You anchored him. You saved the War God from himself." Elara didn't feel victorious. She felt terrified. Bill had stared down gods, shadows, death itself — and she had watched it all happen, helpless except for the vow that bound their hearts. Cassian stepped closer. "The others are gathering. Paris needs leadership. And whether you want it or not… you're part of that." Elara swallowed. "I'm not a leader." "No," Cassian said softly. "You're something more dangerous." A pause. "A symbol." Elara's breath caught. "Of what?" "Of the War God's humanity." She looked away, unable to hold the weight of the words.
Inside: Bill Wakes A sudden pulse rippled through the air behind her — warm, golden, familiar. Elara rushed into the room. Bill stood by the window, shirtless, his wings half-unfurled behind him like battered banners of molten light. His breathing was steady, strong. But his eyes… His eyes were troubled. "Bill," she whispered. He turned, the gold in his gaze softening the moment he saw her. "Elara." His voice was low, calmer than last night but edged with something darker. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head and took his hands, feeling them warm in hers. "I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about." He didn't argue. That alone scared her more than anything. He usually hid pain behind strength. Now, his silence spoke louder. "Elara…" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek, thumb moving slowly as if grounding himself. "Something followed us." Her blood chilled. "The disciple?" "No." Bill looked out the cracked window, wings dimming. "Something older. Something woven into the vow itself. Last night wasn't a battle. It was…" He hesitated. "…a warning." Elara's heart pounded. "What kind of warning?" Bill's jaw clenched. "The vow isn't finished with me. And whoever controls its last fragment… controls everything." Behind him, his wings shivered with faint light — frightened light, something she had never seen. Elara squeezed his hand. "We face it together." He closed his eyes briefly — in pain, in gratitude, in fear. "I never wanted to drag you into this." "You didn't drag me," she whispered. "I chose you." For a moment, something warm and fragile flickered between them — the space where fear met tenderness, and the War God felt like a man again. But the moment shattered as a loud knock echoed from downstairs. Cassian's voice rose sharply. "Bill. Elara. Come quickly." Bill's wings flared. Elara felt her heart drop "What now?" she breathed. "Trouble," Bill murmured. "Deep trouble. Cassian's next words froze everything. "They found something in the ruins," he called up, voice tight with fear. "A message from the disciple." A pause. "It has Bill's name on it."
End of part 1
Part 2: The Disciple's Message
The stairwell felt narrower than usual as Bill and Elara descended, every footstep echoing with a tension neither of them spoke aloud. Cassian waited in the safehouse's main hall. Three other Order members stood behind him, pale and stiff, their eyes fixed on the object lying on the wooden table. It wasn't a letter. It wasn't a scroll. It wasn't even human. It was a shard. A jagged, golden shard — still pulsing faintly with the same eerie glow that had streaked through the city during the attack. Elara's heart lurched. "Is that…?" Cassian nodded grimly. "A fragment of the vow. One that shouldn't exist." Bill's wings flared instinctively, reacting to the shard's energy. "Where did you find it?" "In the ruins of Place Valois," Cassian said. "Buried beneath the shadow beast's remains." He lifted his chin. "There's more." The room fell into a tense silence. Cassian took a careful step back. The shard… moved. A ripple of golden light twisted along its edges and the air thickened with power. A voice — distorted, layered, neither male nor female — seeped from it like a whisper dragged through fire. "War God." Elara stepped back instinctively. The shard pulsed again. "You survived the first trial." Bill's jaw clenched. "Disciple," he growled. "Show yourself, coward." The voice hummed softly, cruelly amused. "I am everywhere the vow touches. I am every shadow it failed to tame. Lucien's will did not die — it simply waited." Elara felt a chill crawl across her skin. "What do you want?" The shard responded instantly. "What is owed. What the vow demands." Bill stepped forward, wings casting molten light around him. "The vow demands nothing. I broke it. I control it now." The shard's glow intensified — violently. "Then why are you still losing control?" Bill froze. The room trembled. Elara grabbed his arm. "Bill— don't listen—" The shard cut her off. "Ask her, War God. Ask the girl whose mark binds your power. Does she feel safe? Does she feel your control slipping each night?" Elara's breath hitched. Bill shot her a sharp look. "Elara—" She opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to lie. But she couldn't. Finally, she whispered, "Your power… it's growing faster. And sometimes—" Her voice trembled. "—I feel it burning you." Bill looked away. The shard twisted, delighted. "Soon your power will outgrow your body. Outgrow your humanity. And then…" A pause. "…she will be the first to fall." Bill's wings snapped open with a roar of fury. "ENOUGH!" The table cracked beneath the blast of his power. Cassian and the others staggered back, shielding themselves from the heat. The shard only glowed brighter. "Come find me, War God. Come reclaim the final piece of the vow — or let it consume you." A swirl of golden energy erupted from the shard, spiraling upward like a storm. Elara shielded her face. When the light faded… the shard was gone. Nothing remained but scorch marks. Silence. Then Cassian exhaled shakily. "He's not bluffing. Bill… your power is accelerating. Faster than anything we've recorded." Elara stepped closer to Bill, voice raw. "We'll fix it. We'll find him." Bill didn't answer. His eyes — usually molten gold — seemed darker. Shadowed. Something inside him was shifting. Finally, he spoke: "He wants me to chase him." Cassian nodded. "It's a trap." Bill's wings unfurled behind him — not in anger, but in decision. "I know." He looked at Elara. "But I'm going anyway." Elara's heart tightened. "Then I'm coming with you." He stared at her, pain flickering across his face. "Elara… if he's right — if I lose control out there—" She silenced him with a touch to his cheek. "Then I'll anchor you. Like I always have." He swallowed hard. Cassian looked between them. "There's something else… something you both need to hear." Bill's head snapped toward him. "What now?" Cassian glanced at the other Order members. They shifted nervously. "The final fragment of the vow," Cassian said quietly, "is not in Paris." He hesitated. "It's in the place where you disappeared ten years ago." Bill stiffened. Elara felt her stomach drop. Cassian continued, voice low: "The disciple is waiting for you… in the village of Marvaux." Bill's first home. His last trauma. And the birthplace of the War God. The disciple wants him there — and whatever waits in Marvaux could break him… or finish what the vow began.
End of part 2
Part 3: Return to the Cursed Village
The name of the village—Marvaux—hung in the air like a curse. Bill didn't move. Didn't breathe. His wings froze in mid-flare, the golden light fading into a heavy, suffocating stillness. Elara reached for him, but he didn't respond. Cassian stepped forward cautiously. "Bill… we know what that place means to you. But the disciple chose it on purpose. He knows it's the one battlefield you never finished." Bill's hands curled into fists. "The vow was born there," he said quietly. "The War God was forged there. And…" His voice thickened. "…I died there." The room fell silent. Elara swallowed hard, stepping closer. "Then we face it together. We face all of it." He finally turned toward her. And for the first time since she met him, she saw true fear in his eyes. Not of an enemy. Not of power. But of his past. "You don't understand, Elara," he whispered. "Marvaux isn't just a memory. It's a wound. One that never healed." She touched his cheek gently. "Then let me help you heal it." He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for a breath—just a breath—before pulling away with a low exhale. Cassian cleared his throat. "We've already arranged transport. The Order will send a small escort, but not enough to draw attention. The disciple wants you isolated—so we can't arrive with an army. Elara tensed. "A trap. Obviously." "It is," Bill said. "But he wants me alive. At least for now." Cassian nodded grimly. "Or he wants you desperate enough to use the full vow." Bill's jaw tightened. "That won't happen." But the tremor in his wings betrayed him.
The Journey Begins Hours later, the group moved through the quiet outskirts of Paris. The city was recovering, but the tension in the air followed them like a shadow. Bill walked ahead, silent, hood drawn, wings disguised beneath it. His posture was taut, coiled—like a man returning to the place where he'd lost everything. Elara walked beside him, matching his pace. She could feel the war going on inside him: memories he never shared, nightmares that shaped him, wounds deeper than any magic. "Bill," she said softly, "you don't have to face this alone." His voice was low, almost hoarse. "I'm not afraid of the disciple." "Elara gave a small smile. "I know." "I'm afraid…" He hesitated. "…that you'll see what I was. Before the vow. Before all of this." She reached for his hand. "Whatever you were, whatever you did—nothing will change what you are to me now." His shoulders loosened, just slightly. Across from them, Cassian rode silently, observing the two with a heavy but knowing expression.
Arrival at the Border As the sun set, a gray fog rolled across the fields ahead. The road narrowed, splitting into a dirt path that led deeper into a cluster of dense forest. A sign stood at the edge of the trees. Weathered. Tilted. The words barely visible: WELCOME TO MARVAUX Elara felt her stomach tighten. The air here… was wrong. Thick. Heavy. Charged. Bill stopped at the sign, staring at it as if seeing a ghost. "This is where I disappeared," he murmured. "Where the vow claimed me." Elara took his hand. "And where we reclaim you." He gave her a faint, grateful look. Cassian gestured forward. "We'll walk from here. Vehicles can't pass through the forest. It's… distorted." Elara frowned. "Distorted how?" "Time doesn't move consistently," Cassian said. "Light bends. Sounds echo from memories instead of the present." Elara's heart thudded. "A cursed village," she whispered. Cassian nodded. "Exactly." Bill stepped forward, golden sparks crackling beneath his skin. "No," he said quietly. "Not cursed." His wings flared, golden light cutting through the fog. "Claimed by the vow."
The Forest of Echoes The forest swallowed them whole. Branches twisted overhead, blocking the moonlight. A cold wind cut through the trees, carrying whispers—not voices, but fragments of memories. Bill's memories. Elara's breath caught as she heard a faint voice echo through the trees: "…Bill… run…" Bill stopped dead. Elara touched his arm. "Bill? Are you hearing—" "Yes," he whispered. "Every step here… is replaying the night everything ended." Cassian frowned. "We should move fast. The disciple will use this place to weaken you." Bill took a shaky breath. "No. He wants me to remember." He pushed forward.
At the Edge of the Village The forest suddenly broke open. Marvaux lay ahead—silent, decayed, frozen in time. Homes collapsed inward. Streets buckled. Smoke lingered in the air despite no fire burning. And at the center… The old Moreau house. Bill's home. Elara gripped his arm harder as he stared at the ruins. "I buried this place," Bill whispered. "I never wanted to see it again." Elara pressed closer to him. "Then we walk it together." He nodded, slowly. But just as they stepped toward the village gate… a golden pulse ignited beneath their feet. Bill froze. Cassian swore. Elara's heart hammered. "What is that?" Bill whispered, voice shaking: "The vow." A circle of golden symbols lit beneath them, spreading outward in a massive ring that encompassed the entire village. Elara's eyes widened. "A seal—?" "No," Bill said. "A summoning." Part From the center of Marvaux, a towering shape began to rise—shadows twisting, gold veins pulsing—forming the silhouette of a man. Not the disciple. Someone far older. Someone tied to Bill's origin. Something long buried… finally waking.
End of chapter 9