The snow had stopped.
The world outside the ruins was quiet—too quiet.
Like it knew something sacred had been disturbed.
Eira stepped into the pale dawn, the frost crunching beneath her boots. Behind her, Azareth groaned with the echoes of awakening. A city of ghosts, now stirred by fire.
Kael stood at the edge of the courtyard, his cloak snapping in the wind, eyes locked on her like she'd stepped out of a dream. Or a nightmare.
Because she was no longer just the girl he'd traveled with.
She was something more.
---
The Moment After
"Say something," Eira said softly.
Kael didn't.
He walked to her instead.
Slow. Purposeful. His boots marked the snow in steady lines.
When he reached her, he looked down—not at her eyes, but at her hands. Still faintly glowing. Barely.
Then he reached out, wordless, and took her right hand into his.
Her fingers were warmer than the morning sun.
And yet, his didn't flinch.
"You're still you," he said.
"You sure?"
Kael looked up at her, eyes dark and honest. "You still flinch when you're scared. You still wrinkle your nose when you're lying. And your hair's still a mess."
She laughed—sharp, sudden, a breath of life after the storm.
But it was short-lived.
Because a second later, she heard it.
---
Something Was Following
It wasn't footsteps.
It was presence.
Heavy. Ancient. Shifting in the air like oil over water.
Eira spun around.
And the snow turned black.
A rift opened behind them—just beyond the fallen gates. Not like the smooth arcs used by Elowen's soldiers. This one tore into the world like a jagged scream. From it, a figure emerged.
Tall. Shrouded in charred robes. A face made of smoke and bone. No eyes—just fire where they should have been.
Kael drew his sword before he even breathed. "What is that?"
Eira's voice was barely a whisper. "It's not of this world."
---
The Flame Wraith
The creature tilted its head, studying her like a moth studies a flame.
"Daughter of Ember. You've been claimed. And now you must be cleansed."
It raised its arm.
The air shimmered—and the snow caught fire.
Kael lunged, blade flashing, but the creature knocked him back like he was nothing.
Eira stepped forward, instinct flaring.
Her palms lit—flames rising not in anger, but in protection. The same color as the runes in the catacombs.
The creature hissed.
"She has his mark," it growled. "Impossible."
Eira clenched her fists. "Whose mark?! What are you talking about?"
But the creature didn't answer.
It charged.
And the snowstorm exploded.
---
The Battle in the Frost
Eira moved without thinking—her power reacting, not planning.
She twisted, flames wrapping around her arms like ribbons. She flung a bolt of heat so hot it turned the snow to steam in midair. The creature shrieked—a sound like metal being dragged across bone—and reared back.
Kael was on his feet again, darting in and out of the storm, slashing where the thing's robes thinned, always circling Eira, guarding her without shielding her.
She didn't need shielding anymore.
She was the shield.
Another blast—this time from her chest. The creature cracked apart at the torso, flames eating through the darkness.
And then—
Silence.
It dissolved into ash.
The storm stopped.
---
But Something Lingered
Kael dropped his sword. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Eira said, panting. "But it knew me. It said I had someone's mark…"
She lifted her hand—and on her palm, beneath the fading glow, was a scar she hadn't noticed before.
A sigil.
Circular. Etched in gold. And ancient.
Not flameborn.
Not Elowen's.
Something else.
Something older.
---
Elsewhere — In a Forgotten Temple Beyond the Queen's Reach
A man in crimson robes knelt before an altar of black stone. His skin was marked in the same gold sigils.
He looked up suddenly.
And smiled.
"She lives."
He stood.
"Then the prophecy was true. The heir has been reborn. And the war is no longer just Elowen's to win or lose."
Behind him, hundreds of torches lit—one by one.
Not magic.
Not power.
Devotion.
---
That Night — By the Fire Again
Eira sat wrapped in a cloak, her face pale, staring at her palm.
Kael handed her tea—made from dried winterroot and crushed blue nettle. It smelled of mint and smoke.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She didn't answer for a while.
Then: "I thought finding my power would be the end of the questions. But it's just the start, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"I don't know who I am, Kael."
He looked at her—really looked.
And whispered, "Then let's find out. Together."