The wall shuddered as Karl and Julius crashed against it. Karl straightened, rolling his shoulders back, eyes fixed on Aurora in a wordless dare: do it again. Strike me! She moved, a crazed smile in her eyes, to meet him, but Julius cut in, dropping to one knee.

Amy’s eyes widened as his head bowed low, his voice taut but steady.

“Empress. I’m sorry. We should have never rebelled against you. We…betrayed you. Samantha’s taken the capital and now we need your aid.”

Aurora’s brows rose as imagined steam curled off her head.

“We tried to seize power,” Julius admitted. “But it was too late.”

Aurora groaned. “Ahh, this is so predictable.”

Karl snapped, but Julius raised a hand, stopping him. “Please,” he said, head down.

To Amy’s surprise, Karl gritted his teeth, standing down, though still seething.

“We thought Samantha vanished, rotting in a hole. We didn’t expect her to reappear, dripping blood for the throne.”

Julius nodded. “And now she’s executing people as if it’s a joke.”

“Spectacle killings? Not my warm-up act!” Aurora gasped.

Amy’s stomach lurched, mouth opening wide.

“No, Empress,” Julius said quickly, shooting Karl a frustrated glance. “We know your coronation executions were fake. We had the intelligence you shackled them underground instead. Just publicly announced them executed. Even then.”

The amusement dripped off Aurora’s lips. “And yet you kept trying to dethrone me. Sent assassins, dropped poison in my water stream,” she met their eyes. “Call me Empress again, and I’ll remind you why the crown fit.”

Still kneeling, Julius bent his head lower.

Karl’s voice came out low through gritted teeth. “That’s rich, considering you have no choice but to help us. She’s hunting you.”

Aurora gave a soft, mirthless laugh. “Do you think that worries me? Weren’t you, just now, too?”

The tension crackled between the two.

“Stop!” Amy’s voice cracked, but they ignored her, spitting at each other, words like blades.

Amy’s chest burned. Frost hissed off her skin. She had enough! She flung dark ice which shot a hole through Thomas’ wall.

Thomas merely raised an eyebrow.

“Listen to me!”

As if obeying the dark child, the fire guttered low. The cottage stilled, wind blowing gently in from the new opening. The crack of ice echoed louder than words. Silence pressed on all of them, until every gaze turned to Amy.

Her voice cut through, cold and clear.

“You’re the same. Both of you. While Samantha laughs after killing Kristo, Karl calls you a monster. And mom, you act too tired and selfish to care. But you’re both cowards. Attacking each other down is easier than fixing your bad decisions!”

The words struck, and for a moment no one breathed. Even Karl’s snarl faltered.

And in Amy’s heart, she missed him again. A crackling fire when she was five. Kristo rubbing warmth into her hands so she wouldn’t cry.

He never mocked me for being weak. He just… stayed.

She looked up at Thomas’ ceiling. That’s what strength is. So I’ll do everything I can to fix this.

She looked at Karl and Aurora. “I know what real strength looks like, and it isn’t this.”

The wind moaned through the shattered wall. The silence after her words was jagged, undeniable. Both Karl and Aurora stared at her now, forced to see the scrawny girl standing in the wreckage.

She turned to Thomas, mouth open to apologize.

He waved his hand. “Don’t apologize. What you said needed to be heard. Later, you can help me mend the wall. For now, finish.”

Aurora’s mouth curved into an incredulous smile. Karl’s mouth hung open, but there was no amusement in his eyes — only fire. “What do you know? You’re just a kid,” he spat.

“What do I know?” Amy shot back. “I know what it’s like to lose the only father who ever loved me. To be dragged across an ocean in chains.” Julius flinched. “To carry a monster in me. And to beg for kindness from my mother and get nothing back.” Amy swallowed. “And still, I know I won’t walk your path. Even after everything.”

Though she thought of Kristo, tears didn’t sting her eyes. Not this time. Because, finally, they had dried.

She stepped closer to Karl, gaze steady. “You say I don’t know anything. Maybe you’re right... But I know this: someone has to stop the cycle.” She held out her hand, dark frost growing across her skin. “And…Kristo…my dad would have stayed.”

Aurora’s fingers curled briefly into her palms. For a moment, she said nothing, narrowing her eyes at Amy. Then she forced a brittle laugh.

“Listen to you,” she gave a slow clap. “So certain, so righteous,” but Amy saw beyond her sharp words. “You almost sound like me back when I thought speeches could save the world. But they don’t. So tell me, Amy. When it’s your turn to bleed — truly bleed — when the whole world turns against you, will you still believe any of this?”

Despite Aurora’s efforts to seem cold, untouchable, Amy saw what was in her mother’s eyes. Exhaustion. Disillusionment. Desperation.

Amy’s breath shook, but her voice was steady. “Mom. Please. Just this once, choose to stand with me.”

The girl’s plea stirred an old wound, dragging Aurora back to the fire and smoke of another day. The day she walked away from the only one who stayed and chose to chase the fire.
***
Revised chapter 4 of The Fall of Mercy
That day, Aurora didn’t have time to worry about Samantha. Not when screams mingled with the smoke. But Kristo didn’t hesitate. He shoved past the rubble, eyes locked on the chaos ahead. Milo watched him go then turned, quietly walking the other way.

“Milo!” But the moment her voice left her lips, it clicked: He wasn’t here to finish what he started. He wasn’t one to lead or save or even to clean up the wreckage he’d left behind. Now that her enemy had fallen, she could focus on Cerceras. The dark, ancient god that was eating her home miles away – the Blade Kingdom.

But Kristo?

Kristo couldn’t leave – not when people needed help. He stumbled out of the smoke, a half-conscious man slung over his shoulder. After setting him down to safety, he vanished back into the fire asking nothing back.

Looking back, she should’ve stayed. Should’ve helped him. She knew that. Even then. But staying meant watching people die, while twiddling their thumbs hoping Milo defeated Cerceras. It meant waiting to drown in chaos she couldn’t control – again.

But following Milo proved a path toward power. She breathed in sharply, guilt pressing down on her soul. Kristo emerged again, soot in his hair, a child clinging to his back—arms locked tight around his shoulders like a lifeline.
***
Now Aurora looked at the desperate child in front of her. How dare she show this level of…vulnerability.

For a second, instead of a little girl, she saw… him.

The only man that stayed.

But, though vulnerable, Amy’s eyes weren’t scared. And that was terrifying.

No. Her daughter’s eyes were filled with bravery… and stupidity.

But, for once, stupidity was moving.

Aurora sighed, looking up too. Could the cycle really break? Could people really change?

She looked at her daughter. So certain. Burning bright. She sighed. Nodded.

“Okay, Amy — you convinced me, a dangerous thing to do. I’ll help you. I’ll go back into the fire. With you.”

Aurora shook her head, looking at the skinny girl, who turned out to be nothing like she expected.

Still, her gaze didn’t shake. Her eyes weren’t completely alien. They had, after all, Milo’s cunning and her spite.

Aurora’s smile tightened. “But don’t be surprised when the fire comes. Because it always takes more than it gives.”