The skies above Veyr split open like a wound.
Flamecraft and spellfire streaked across the heavens as the High Regent's fleet descended—dark airships propelled by storm-forged engines and warded by soulbound guardians. At their center hovered a massive fortress-airship: The Hollow Crown, a relic of the Old Empire reborn.
Below, on the cliffs of the Sanctum of Veyr, Ember stood at the head of her allies—Flameborn, renegade mages, Shadeborn monks, and awakened soulbearers who had come from across the continent, drawn by the rebirth of the Phoenix Crown… and by whispers of Kael Veradis's return.
Kaelen tightened his grip on his spellbound blade. "They outnumber us twenty to one."
Lysra raised a flaming ward. "Then they'll only need one grave."
Ember said nothing.
Inside her, Kael's voice pulsed like thunder.
"They're here for me. You should let me take control. Just for a moment."
"No."
"You want to protect them? Then fight like me."
Instead, Ember stepped forward and lifted her hands toward the sky.
The Phoenix Heart flared.
And from the mountain's edge, ancient wards long thought lost erupted into brilliance—defensive seals, solar lances, and flame-channeling pylons. The old Sanctum hadn't just taught magic.
It had been built to wage war.
The Regent's voice echoed from an amplifier rune high above.
"Return Kael Veradis to me, and the rest of you will be spared."
Ember responded with a single word.
"Burn."
The sky ignited.
Phoenix flame met war-magic. Ember hurled firestorms laced with magus weaves, rewriting the shape of reality mid-air. Her allies surged forth, battle chants mixing with spell-echoes and the roar of fire.
On the Hollow Crown's deck, the High Regent watched the battle unfold.
"She's more than him now," she said.
Her lieutenant nodded. "She's both."
The Regent unsheathed a blade made from crystallized time.
"Then let's see if both of them can bleed."
She leapt from the airship, straight toward Ember—flames spiraling, destiny crashing.