The rain had not stopped for days. It whispered across the rooftops like a secret kept too long, sliding down the broken stained-glass windows of the ancient cathedral where Kael and Elyra had taken refuge. Thunder trembled in the distance, distant but drawing closer, like war drums on the horizon.
Elyra stood beneath a shattered archway, soaked to the bone, her hands trembling as she stared at the horizon. The Pale Flame's fortress loomed far beyond, a monolith of black iron and cold fire, its silhouette jagged against the storm-slashed sky.
She hadn't spoken to Kael since the confrontation with Vespera. Not really. Oh, there had been strategy talk, and tense discussions about the best route through the marshlands, but none of it touched the raw wound between them. Kael had pulled away—not in anger, but in silence. And that silence was louder than any shout.
Kael was inside, poring over an ancient codex, his jaw tight, his eyes shadowed with more than just exhaustion. The candle beside him flickered, throwing strange reflections off the silver threads that now wound up his arm—a remnant of his encounter with the Wraithbound Oracle.
He didn't speak when Elyra entered. Didn't look up when she dropped the map of the fortress beside him.
"There's a breach in the southern wall," she said. "Old, overgrown. But we could get through."
Kael nodded slowly, eyes still on the codex. "You shouldn't be out in this storm."
"Neither should you be carrying the weight of this alone," she shot back. Her voice cracked. "You're not a martyr, Kael. You're not alone."
He looked up then, and his eyes were tired. "Aren't I? Rhysten died. Vespera is a traitor, whether she believes it or not. And you—you look at me like you're afraid of what I'll become."
Elyra took a step forward, water dripping from her cloak. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid for you. You're burning at both ends, Kael, and when you break, I don't think any of us will survive the fallout."
His mouth twitched. A sad almost-smile. "Then you should run."
She didn't. Instead, she knelt in front of him, reaching out and gently brushing her fingers along the silver veins spiraling up his arm. "These aren't chains. They're warnings. You can still choose who you become."
Kael closed his eyes.
The storm howled louder outside.
Far from the cathedral, in the ruins of Asthara, Vespera knelt before a brazier of blue flame. She held her locket in one hand, the other outstretched over a circle of runes carved into the floor.
"They don't understand yet," she whispered to the flame. "But they will. They all will."
Behind her, a shadow moved. The girl with silver eyes stepped into the light, her hands stained with ancient ash.
"Are you sure they can be turned?"
Vespera didn't look back. "They won't need to be. When the final seal breaks, choice will be irrelevant."
And the locket glowed brighter.
Back at the cathedral, Elyra and Kael sat side by side, the silence between them no longer cold, but tentative. Healing. Outside, the rain slowed.
"I had a dream last night," Elyra said quietly. "I saw Starflame again. But this time... she wasn't chained. She was waiting. And she said your name."
Kael looked at her, startled. "What did she say?"
"That the end has already begun. And the fire isn't what we thought."
He leaned back against the stone, breathing deeply. "Then we have less time than I feared."
Elyra nodded. Then whispered, "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't die."
Kael looked at her for a long moment. Then said, softly, "Only if you don't."
They both knew it was a lie. But they clung to it anyway.
Outside, lightning split the sky.