The war drums of Astralis thundered through the valley, echoing across the scorched fields and broken ridges that marked the no-man's-land between the city and Velcrin's encroaching darkness.
For the first time in a generation, Astralis was not defending — it was marching.
Elyra rode at the head of the Flameguard, her armor etched with twin phoenixes, the fused Flame pulsing softly beneath her breastplate. Her cloak, crimson and gold, caught the wind like fire given form.
Kael rode beside her, freshly healed, his silver-bladed spear strapped to his back. Shadows still clung faintly to his eyes from the wound Thorn left — but Elyra saw something else in him now.
Resolve. And fear — not for himself, but for her.
The army moved swiftly, bolstered by battlemages and phoenix-riders. Their target: Velcrin's fortress of Duskwatch, perched like a claw on the cliffside, veiled in storm and stone.
They would strike hard and fast. Break Velcrin's forward bastion. Force the enemy to retreat. And buy Astralis precious time.
By nightfall, they reached the ravine below Duskwatch. Camps were set, scouts dispatched, and battle lines drawn in whispers.
Elyra stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing up at the fortress shrouded in smoke.
Kael approached silently.
"You're restless," he said.
"Can't sleep when the future weighs this loud."
He studied her face — the sharp angles softened by firelight. "You think he'll be there?"
"Velcrin?" Her voice lowered. "Yes. This is too important. He'll want to see it fail."
Kael exhaled. "Then we go in tomorrow. And end it."
But Elyra didn't answer right away.
Instead, she reached for his hand.
"I don't know what happens after this," she said, voice soft. "But if we fall… I want you to know. You matter. More than this war. More than the Flame."
Kael's fingers tightened around hers. "Then don't talk about falling. We live. Together."
She looked up.
He kissed her — fierce and certain — a collision of everything left unsaid until now.
And when they broke apart, she whispered, "Tomorrow, we burn the darkness."
At dawn, the sky turned blood-orange.
The assault began with a storm — summoned by the Tempest Circle — masking the army's advance in wind and lightning.
Elyra led the vanguard through the mountain pass, the Flameguard cleaving through outposts with precision. Arrows struck like rain, but mages warded them off in shields of glimmering light.
Then they reached Duskwatch's gates — towering, rune-carved, and pulsing with corrupted magic.
Velcrin's banner flew above: a crown wreathed in chains.
Kael drove his spear into the ground.
"Mages!" Elyra shouted. "With me!"
She stepped forward and unleashed the full Flame — a twin fire of gold and crimson spiraling together.
The gate melted in seconds.
Inside — chaos.
Duskwatch's defenders were many. But Astralis came like a tide.
They pushed deeper through the fortress, room by room — until Elyra reached the inner sanctum.
There, waiting on a throne of blackened bone and silver fire… was Velcrin.
He rose.
Not monstrous. Not armored. He wore simple robes, dark and layered, and his eyes glowed faintly red.
"Elyra of the Flame," he said, voice like velvet and knives. "You bring your light to my home. How noble."
She raised her sword, her voice steady. "This ends here."
Velcrin smiled — not in arrogance, but sadness.
"No. This began long before you were born."
He extended his hand — and the shadows parted, revealing an ancient tapestry.
A phoenix and a serpent, circling one another — the eternal cycle of fire and silence.
"You know nothing of the Flame's origin," he said. "Because your people burned the truth."
Elyra felt something shift. Deep in the Emberheart within her.
Kael stepped forward. "Speak plainly."
Velcrin looked at him. "You carry it too, don't you? The echo of what was."
He stepped toward Elyra, eyes narrowed.
"Your Flame is only half purity. The other half… is me."
Silence fell like snow.
Elyra's grip tightened. "What are you saying?"
Velcrin raised his hands — and flame erupted from his chest. But not red, or gold.
Silver.
Pure and cold.
He whispered, "I was the first to hold the Flame whole. Before your Seers split it. I was the Flamekeeper. Until they feared me."
Kael's breath caught. "That's not possible. You'd be—"
"A thousand years old," Velcrin said. "Yes. I was banished. Forgotten. But the Flame does not forget. It only divides."
Elyra's mind raced. The carvings. The memory. The words etched beneath the Emberheart:
To wield the Flame whole, one must bleed truth.
She looked into Velcrin's eyes — and saw no lies.
Only bitterness. And pain.
"You want to destroy Astralis," she said.
"I want to reunite the Flame. But Astralis will never allow it. Not while it clings to false prophecy."
He raised his hand. "So I will burn away the lie."
He struck.
The chamber exploded.
Kael pushed Elyra aside as a spear of silver flame tore through the floor.
He rose, already countering — fire lashing forward, deflecting the next strike.
Elyra came up beside him, her twin flames flaring.
"You want the Flame whole?" she shouted. "Then take it from me!"
She charged.
Velcrin met her with impossible speed, his silver fire intercepting every strike.
Their flames clashed in blinding brilliance — white, gold, crimson, and silver spiraling in lethal dance.
Kael joined, his spear a blur — turning defense into attack.
For a moment, the three became a storm.
Then Velcrin twisted, and his fire lashed out — striking Kael full in the chest.
He crashed back into a pillar, unmoving.
Elyra screamed — her flame surging in a tidal wave of raw fury.
She struck again. And again.
Velcrin staggered.
And in that second, she drove her sword through his chest.
Silver fire burst from the wound.
But Velcrin didn't scream.
He smiled.
"You are strong," he whispered. "But the Flame cannot be tamed. Not even by you."
Then he vanished — dissolved into embers and shadow.
Silence.
Elyra rushed to Kael.
His eyes fluttered open — pain-ridden, but alive.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he rasped.
She choked a laugh — tears rising. "You stubborn fool."
"Did we win?"
Elyra looked around.
The fortress was collapsing. The enemy routed. But Velcrin — the truth he spoke — still lingered.
"No," she said softly. "We bought time. But this is far from over."
She helped him to his feet.
And in that broken chamber, with the twin flames flickering around them, they held each other like it was the only truth left.