The scroll weighed heavily on Lira's mind as they continued their journey, its shimmering ink a constant reminder of the secrets it held. Eson noticed her unease but chose not to press her—until one evening, when she abruptly stopped mid-step and turned to face him.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice tight with tension. "About trust."
Eson raised an eyebrow, his guard instinctively rising. "What are you talking about?"
Lira hesitated, glancing around as if expecting someone—or something—to emerge from the shadows. "I didn't tell you everything about why I'm helping you. There's… more to my story."
Before she could elaborate, a low chuckle echoed through the ruins. Both of them froze, their eyes darting toward the source of the sound. From the darkness stepped a figure clad in dark armor, his face obscured by a jagged mask. Behind him stood several others, all bearing the insignia of the Emberguard.
"Lira," the leader sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "Did you really think you could run forever?"
Eson's stomach churned as realization dawned. "You… you led them here?"
Lira's expression hardened, though there was a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "It's not what you think. They have something I need—something worth any price."
Betrayal burned like acid in Eson's chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. His hand hovered near the sigil on his palm, ready to summon Soulfire at a moment's notice. "What do they have?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"That's none of your concern," Lira snapped, though her resolve seemed to waver under his glare. She turned to the leader of the Emberguard. "I kept my end of the deal. Now give me what you promised."
The man smirked, tossing a small vial filled with glowing liquid into the air. "Not so fast. First, we deal with the boy."
Eson's muscles tensed as the Emberguard advanced, their weapons gleaming with unnatural light. Lira stepped back, her bow drawn but aimed at the ground—a clear sign she wouldn't interfere.
"You're on your own this time," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret.
Anger surged through Eson, fueling the flames within him. He clenched his fist, allowing the sigil to flare brightly. If Lira wanted to betray him, so be it. But he wouldn't go down without a fight.
The first soldier lunged at Eson, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. But Eson was faster. A tendril of blue fire erupted from his palm, striking the man squarely in the chest and sending him sprawling backward. The sigil pulsed wildly, feeding on his rage and desperation.
One by one, the Emberguard fell, their numbers no match for the raw power of Soulfire. Yet each use of the energy left Eson weaker, his body trembling with exhaustion. By the time the last soldier collapsed, he could barely stand.
"Well done," the leader mocked, clapping slowly as he stepped forward. Unlike his subordinates, he radiated an aura of confidence—and danger. "But even the strongest flames burn out eventually."
Eson gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was about proving that he couldn't be broken.
With a final surge of energy, he unleashed a wave of Soulfire that engulfed the leader, reducing him to ash. When the flames subsided, only silence remained.
As the dust settled, Eson turned to Lira, his gaze cold and unyielding. "You used me," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"I had no choice!" she protested, lowering her bow. "They took my brother captive. What was I supposed to do?"
"That's not my problem," Eson shot back, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "You made your choice. Now live with it."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing amidst the ashes. For the first time since their journey began, he felt truly alone—but also strangely free. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it on his own terms.