The masked figures moved with chilling purpose.
Lyra counted six, three flanking the pass, two in the trees, one approaching the ridge where they crouched.
No wasted motion.
No sound.
No visible weapons, but the air around them shimmered faintly, like heat mirage or magic ready to be drawn.
Kaal's breath came shallow. "They haven't seen us yet."
Lyra shook her head. "No, they've seen us."
The front-most figure stopped at the base of the ridge and looked up. It raised its hand again, slow, deliberate.
Then pointed.
At Kaal.
Lyra moved first.
"Run!" she shouted, already pushing him back toward the rocks.
But before he could obey, a blast of energy slammed into the ledge, sending them both flying.
Kaal hit the ground hard. His ribs screamed, but he rolled with the fall, coming up gasping.
The world rang.
Then came the first attacker, swift, silent, blade drawn from some unseen sheath, aimed for his throat.
Lyra intercepted mid-strike, steel clashing with steel. Sparks flew. Her momentum carried her low, duck, spin, upward slash. The figure staggered, cloak torn, but didn't bleed. Didn't flinch.
"They're not people!" she shouted.
"Then what..."
Another warrior dropped from above, blade aimed at Kaal's back.
He turned, and without thinking, moved.
The sword in his hand, the old one from the guards, shifted like it belonged in his grip.
His body knew the motion before his mind caught up. A sidestep, pivot, upward arc.
Clang.
The masked blade met his. The impact shot through his bones. The vibration shot up his arm, numbing his elbow. His palm burned with the friction, the tang of hot iron clinging to his tongue like he'd bitten metal.
But the enemy fell back.
Lyra whistled from across the field. "Nice! Remind me to question your sickly-prince act later."
Kaal didn't answer.
Another masked figure charged her. She met it head-on, both blades flashing.
Fast, vicious.
Lyra moved like a storm, all grace and teeth. She didn't fight to survive. She fought to end.
Kaal turned.
One of the warriors circled him, too quiet, too fluid. Kaal stepped in to strike, but this one anticipated him. The warrior's hand twisted, and a lance of energy snapped from its palm.
Kaal raised his sword, but it was too slow.
Instinct surged.
He reached.
Something answered.
A pulse exploded outward from his chest, invisible but heavy. The lance struck it mid-air, then evaporated in a shimmer of silver sparks.
The warrior staggered, first time any of them had shown surprise.
Kaal's arm trembled. He didn't know what he'd done. The power was gone again. But his opponent was reeling, and his blade remembered.
He lunged, drove it clean through the warrior's side.
The figure shrieked, a terrible, static-sounding distortion, and collapsed into dust and wind.
One down.
Lyra fought two at once now, breathing hard, lip bloodied but still grinning like a devil. "Having fun yet?"
"Define fun," Kaal panted.
"You're not dead. That's a good start."
Another warrior charged from behind.
Lyra saw it. "Kaal!"
Too far to intercept.
Kaal turned.
Too late.
The blade was inches from his heart.
Time stretched.
Something inside him cracked open.
Heat bloomed in his spine, rushing through his limbs like light under water.
The air shimmered again, but this time, not as a shield.
As a pulse.
A blast of silver energy erupted from his hands, raw, unfocused.
The attacker was thrown backward into the stone, limbs flailing, armor sparking.
Kaal collapsed to one knee, gasping.
His hands smoked. His vision blurred at the edges. The magic was like fire in his veins now, alive, ravenous, barely contained.
"Hold it together," he muttered. "Hold..."
Another shriek.
Lyra's blade punched through soft armor and something beneath it, tissue? Bone? It gave too easily. The figure let out a static scream and collapsed into ash, but for one second, it felt like she'd struck something human.
Kaal turned to see Lyra finish her last opponent with a brutal upward slash. The masked figure dropped in a heap and vanished like the rest, into dust, then nothing.
Silence followed.
Kaal knelt, shaking.
Lyra limped over, breathing hard, dragging her blades behind her. "Well," she said, spitting blood, "You weren't completely useless."
He gave her a weak glare.
Then winced. "They knew me."
She nodded. "They came straight for you."
"But they didn't even try to kill you until I fought back."
She cleaned her blade slowly. "Which means someone or something sent them. And they weren't random mountain monsters."
"They were organized. Tactical."
"Magical," she added. "The air shimmered around them when they moved. Like warped light."
Kaal stood shakily. "They didn't bleed."
She looked up. "No. But they broke."
They stared at each other a long moment.
Then Kaal said softly, "This is bigger than healing. Isn't it?"
Lyra nodded once. "Did you just realise it?"
He looked at his hand, still tingling. "There's something in me. Something waking up."
"I saw."
"You're not going to ask me to explain?"
She shook her head. "I'll wait till you understand it first."
They moved away from the battlefield, leaving behind the ashes of enemies that had never truly been alive.
Neither of them looked back.
But both of them felt it.
This wasn't the end.