The journey out of the Pale Bastion was strangely quiet. The usual echoes of war, of the distant clash of swords and the tremor of collapsing stone, were replaced with an eerie silence. The walls around them, once so full of power, had been hollowed by the force of Callan's choice. The Flame had been freed, but it had taken with it the very essence of the place that had been its prison.
As they stepped into the open air, the sunlight felt different—brighter, more vibrant. The oppressive heaviness that had once hung in the air seemed to lift. Callan took a deep breath, feeling the wind on his skin for the first time in what felt like ages.
Ren looked around, squinting against the light. "I didn't expect it to feel so… empty."
"Not empty," Solenne corrected, her gaze sweeping over the landscape. "It's more like it's been cleared. Like a weight has been lifted."
Shura was already moving ahead, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "The world doesn't wait for us. We need to decide what happens next."
Callan's gaze lingered on the distant mountains, their peaks hidden by a veil of mist. His mind was still processing everything that had happened—the battles, the decisions, the power of the Flame now burning within him. But beneath it all, he felt the stirring of something new. A purpose, perhaps, or maybe just the feeling that the world was about to change in ways none of them could predict.
"We move forward," Callan said, his voice steady. "The Oathkeeper spoke the truth. The Flame calls to others. And we can't let it fall into the wrong hands."
"There's no doubt in my mind that someone out there is already planning to take it," Ren muttered, cracking his knuckles. "We've made a lot of enemies, and now we've got even more to worry about."
"We've never been alone in this fight," Solenne added, her voice calm but firm. "We have each other. And the Flame, though powerful, is not everything. The strength we have is in our bond."
Shura nodded, her eyes hardening with resolve. "That's what will keep us alive. And if anyone thinks they can take the Flame from us, they'll have to go through us first."
They began their descent down the mountainside, moving toward the heart of the land they had once known. It was strange—everything looked the same, yet it was as if the landscape had shifted. The trees, the earth, even the sky—they all seemed subtly different, as if the world itself had adjusted to Callan's choice.
"Where do we start?" Ren asked, looking toward Callan.
Callan paused, his gaze turning toward the distant capital. "We start by finding out who's still out there. Who's trying to take control of what's left of the power. And then we stop them."
The others nodded in agreement, their faces set with determination. There was no fear now—just the quiet, unwavering certainty that they were on the right path.
But as they walked, a new presence began to stir in the air around them.
At first, it was nothing more than a faint whisper, a chill breeze that brushed against their skin. But then, the temperature dropped suddenly, and the air seemed to thicken with an ominous energy. The ground trembled, faintly at first, then with increasing intensity.
Shura was the first to react. She dropped into a defensive stance, her blades shimmering in the light. "We're not alone."
The others immediately followed her lead, their senses sharp. Callan's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but his mind was already moving faster than his body. He could feel it—the presence that was approaching, something ancient and powerful. Something that had been awakened by the Flame.
And then, a figure emerged from the shadows of the forest.
The figure was tall, draped in tattered black robes that fluttered like smoke in the wind. His face was hidden by a hood, but the glint of gold could be seen faintly, just beneath the dark cloth. He was silent as he approached, his steps making no sound, his presence suffocating.
Callan stepped forward, his grip tightening on his sword. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted his head, as though he had been expecting the question. "I am the one who waits. The one who has watched as the Flame burned the world. And now…" His voice was like a dark wind, carrying with it the weight of forgotten secrets. "Now, I have come to claim what should have been mine."
Ren growled, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapons. "You're too late."
The figure's lips curled into a thin smile. "Am I? We shall see."
With a sudden movement, he raised his hand, and the ground around them erupted. The earth cracked open, and tendrils of shadow rose from the cracks like dark serpents, wrapping around their legs and pulling them down. The air grew thick with the scent of decay and despair, and Callan could feel the power of the Flame inside him responding, thrumming in his veins.
"Shura, Solenne, Ren!" Callan shouted, trying to break free from the grasp of the shadows. "Get ready!"
The others wasted no time. Solenne summoned her light, her hands glowing with a pure, radiant energy that cut through the shadows. Ren charged forward, his blades flashing as he cut through the tendrils that wrapped around his legs. Shura was already moving, her movements fluid and deadly as she slashed through the darkness.
But the figure did not move. He stood there, watching, his smile never faltering.
"You cannot stop me," he whispered, as if the words themselves carried a power all their own.
Callan's heart pounded in his chest as the Flame within him surged. He reached deep inside, pulling on the power he had fought so hard to control. The light of the Flame ignited around him, burning away the shadows, but the figure did not flinch.
Instead, he raised his other hand, and the shadows grew stronger.
"Then we'll see whose flame burns brighter," Callan muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. He focused all his energy into a single point, his sword glowing with the fire of a thousand embers.
And then, the battle began.