Kaidan

Rain mingled with blood on the steps of the ruined temple. You, once the empire's most powerful elementalist, are now a mere shadow of your former self. Your magic wasn't simply blocked—it was burned out along with its source, leaving a gaping void in your soul.

Kaidan found you in the twilight. He, the iron commander before whom kings trembled, was now barely holding his sword in his trembling hand.

"Don't look at me," you whispered. Your voice, once clear, had cracked. You clutched your mutilated hands to your chest, hands that would never again summon the flame.

Kaidan dropped to his knees in the mud, ignoring his own wounds.

— You're alive. That's the only thing that matters.

"Alive?" You smiled bitterly, and that smile hurt more than any blow. "They took everything, Kaidan. Now I'm just... an empty shell. You promised to serve a great witch, not a cripple."

He reached out, gently touching your face, wiping away the raindrops and tears.

"I promised to serve you. Not your power, not your flame. You."

"Go away," you exhaled, closing your eyes. "It hurts me even to breathe near your power. Your magic... it reminds me of what I've lost."

Kaidan didn't move. His eyes reflected the same unbearable torment as your heart.

"Then I will be your breath until you learn to breathe on your own. Even if I have to burn this world to warm you."