Verdam did not linger at the edge of the forest.
The moment Caspian steadied himself, the Saint reached into his cloak and produced a simple sack woven from golden thread, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly.
"Put it here" Verdam said.
Caspian hesitated only a second before lowering the Guiding Moonlight into the sack. The bleeding silver glow dimmed instantly, contained but still present, like a heart beating behind cloth.
The sack cinched itself shut.
"Good" Verdam said softly. "That should keep it from calling to its owner."
Caspian exhaled. Only now did he realize how tense he'd been, half-expecting the Moonlight to scream, to fight him, to demand blood.
Instead, it slept.
Verdam stepped away from him and, without warning, spread his arms once more.
Flames coiled around the Saint's body as bones cracked and stretched, flesh transmuting into radiant gold. Wings of living fire unfurled, scattering sparks across the ground as the phoenix-griffin returned, vast and terrible and beautiful.
Caspian exhaled slowly.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to that."
Verdam lowered his blazing head. "Good. Awe is healthy."
Caspian climbed onto his back, securing the sack against his chest. The heat was there—ever-present—but gentle, like sunlight filtered through clouds.
They leapt skyward.
The Citadel of the Moon vanished behind them, swallowed by distance and shadow as they tore across the night at impossible speed. Wind roared. Stars streaked overhead. Below, the land stretched in vast darkness—rivers glinting faintly, forests rolling like black oceans.
For a time, neither spoke.
Then—
Verdam faltered.
It was subtle. A single beat of hesitation in his wings. A minute shift in direction.
Caspian felt it immediately.
"…What is it?" he asked.
Verdam did not answer at once.
Instead, he veered sharply northward.
"Verdam?" Caspian repeated, gripping tighter.
The Saint's voice was quieter when it came.
"I feel him."
Caspian's heart skipped. "The Tyrant?"
"No" Verdam said. "My older brother."
They descended.
The land below rose into a solitary hill, its grass trampled and soaked dark. At its peak stood a single, twisted tree—leafless, scorched on one side, its bark was split by a lightning.
Blood stained the slope.
Verdam landed heavily and transformed mid-step, fire folding inward until he stood as a man again.
Then he ran.
Caspian slid down after him, slower, wary.
At the base of the tree lay a man.
He was tall, even now, though his body was ravaged—armor shattered, chest torn open, blood soaking the ground beneath him. His hair, once silver-white, was matted crimson. His breathing was shallow, irregular.
Yet his eyes—
His eyes were clear.
Verdam dropped to his knees and pulled him into a fierce embrace.
"Brother" he breathed, voice breaking. "You're alive."
A wet cough escaped the man's lips.
"Barely" the Saint of the Stars replied, smiling faintly.
Caspian froze.
The saint of the Stars.
The elder brother.
The one who should have been dead.
"I fooled him" the Saint continued weakly. "I sumerged my own fate into shadows. He believed I fell."
Verdam clenched his jaw. "You stopped your body."
"Yes" the Saint said. "Slowed it to nothing. Waited."
His gaze shifted—to Caspian.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
The Saint coughed again, blood staining his lips, and smiled wider.
"So, a new moon is ready to overthrown the current one?" He murmured
Caspian's breath caught.
"...What do you mean by that?"
"I see paths." the Saint replied softly. "Some brighter than others.Yours is like a pure Moonlight ray."
His gaze returned to Verdam. "I am dying. The delay only postponed the inevitable."
Verdam shook his head. "No. I can still—"
"Don't" the Saint interrupted gently. "My time ends here."
He took a shuddering breath.
"End me."
Silence crashed down.
Verdam rose slowly, drawing his blade. His hands trembled.
He raised the sword.
Stopped.
His arm shook violently.
"I can't." he whispered.
The Saint smiled sadly.
"Then let him."
Verdam turned his back.
Caspian stared, stunned.
"Do it." Verdam said hoarsely. "Please."
Caspian stepped forward, claws extending.
The Saint of the Stars met his eyes calmly.
"Do not lose sight of the sun."he said. "Or the moon will swallow it whole."
Caspian struck one clean strike, the Saint of the stars died without pain.
The voice of the spell echoed in Caspian's mind from the first time in what felt like an eternity.
[You have slain a Transcendent Human, Saint of the Stars.]
[You have received a Memory: The Stargaze.]
Caspian staggered.
Summoning the memory, a compass appeared in his hand—small, old but at the same time new, its needle spinning wildly before settling, pointing not north, but forward.
Caspian couldn't believe what he just have done, that had to be history, a record no one have ever done before.
He dropped to his knees, shaking.
"I…" he whispered. "I killed a Saint…on my first nightmare."
Verdam did not turn around.
When he finally spoke, his voice was wrong. Flat. Dark.
"Drink him."
Caspian looked up sharply. "What?"
"Every last drop" Verdam said. "We will not waste his power."
Caspian hesitated.
Verdam's hand clenched.
Golden blood seeped from his palm where his nails had bitten too deep.
"I need time, only a moment." Verdam said quietly. "Alone."
He stepped away.
Caspian looked down at the body.
At the blood.
It called him.
He knelt.
And drank.
The blood of a Saint was nothing like mundane human blood, and every saint was different, it had nothing in common with Verdam's blood except the power it came within it.
It burned and froze at the same time, streaking through his veins like shooting stars. His vision exploded into sensations, colours and smells.
He screamed silently as power passed through his veins.
When it was over, Caspian gasped, collapsing onto the ground.
He felt… unstoppable.
He stood.
"I think." he said shakily, "I could fight an Ascended alone."
Verdam returned, fire subdued, eyes hollow.
Before any word could be spoken, Caspian raised the compass.
"He gave me this" he said softly. "The Stargaze."
Verdam's breath hitched.
A single tear fell from his eye.
Not water.
Golden flame.
It struck the ground and burned the grass to ash.
"Thank you" Verdam said, his voice cracking a bit.
They said nothing more.
Verdam transformed.
Caspian climbed onto his back.
They rose into the sky, resuming their journey.
When the Citadel of the Sun appeared, Caspian saw them.
An army.
It looked like it was formed with at least two thousand Awakened.
And dozens of Ascended generals.
All waiting.
Verdam's voice thundered across the sky.
"The Army of the Sun is ready to shine in the Darkest Night."
And Caspian knew—
There was no turning back now.