The Sun-Forged Cliffs blazed on the horizon like a land set aflame.
Orange light bathed the stone, and rivers of molten gold ran like veins down the canyon walls. It was a place sacred to the Firebound — and the last known location of the fourth soul tethered to Aelira's fate.
None of them spoke much on the journey south.
Kaelen had grown distant since the Mirror.
Theron hid his tension beneath jokes, but his eyes were sharper than ever.
Riven stayed close to Aelira, saying little, but watching everything — the skies, the shadows, even her.
The scroll from the Library burned with warm light every time they neared the cliffs.
"There's something… pulling me," Aelira whispered as they descended. "Like heat beneath the skin."
Theron gave a slow nod. "This place is alive. Fire has memory. And it remembers him."
They arrived at dusk.
The cliffside temple was in ruins. Ancient obsidian columns lay cracked, and flame-glyphs flickered faintly in the fading light. At the heart of it, a stone brazier still burned — unnaturally.
"He's close," Aelira murmured.
But before she could step forward—
An arrow slammed into the stone beside her.
Kaelen shoved her down, blade drawn. Riven threw a shield of frost, and Theron was already reaching for flame.
From the cliffs above, a figure stood — cloaked in smoke and red silk. His hair was ember-red, tied high. His eyes burned like twin suns. And in his hand was a bow carved from dragon bone.
"I warned the Queen," he called down. "That she would come. That she would be tempted."
Aelira slowly stood. "I'm not here to fight."
"You are always here to fight," the man said, leaping down in a graceful arc of flame. He landed without sound, the ground scorching beneath his feet.
"You're him," Aelira said, heart racing. "The fourth."
He narrowed his eyes. "I was. Before I burned the bond from my soul."
The air stilled.
Kaelen took a step forward. "You're lying. No one can sever a soulbond. Not fully."
"I didn't sever it," the man said coldly. "I buried it. Along with everyone I ever loved."
Aelira met his gaze.
"You knew me," she said softly. "Before."
"I knew your fire," he said. "I knew the chaos you brought. And I won't let you do it again."
He raised his bow — and flame coiled like serpents around the arrow.
Theron stepped forward. "She's not who she was. We're not either."
The man's voice cracked. "She was everything to me. And she chose to die rather than stay. I burned for centuries. I won't burn again."
Aelira didn't move.
Instead, she opened her hand — and let the crescent stone glow.
The light danced across the brazier, flared brighter… and echoed the same flame from his chest.
His breath hitched.
"No," he whispered.
Aelira's voice trembled. "You're still bound to me, aren't you? Even through the fire. Even through death."
He looked at her like he wanted to run — or fall into her arms.
"I am," he rasped. "But I don't want to be."
"Then fight it," she said. "Or come with me. Help me end her. Help me stop this."
For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling brazier.
Then… he lowered his bow.
The fire sank into his skin. The temple stopped humming.
"I am Ashar," he said, stepping forward, "last Prince of the Sun-Flame Court. And if I burn for you again… it will be by my choice."
Aelira's heart caught.
The bond pulsed — not gently like the others, but with heat. Desire. Fury. Longing. Everything that had ever been broken, blazing anew.
Riven stepped forward, tense.
Kaelen said nothing, but his grip on his sword tightened.
Theron just muttered, "Well. That's four. Things are about to get real complicated."