The sun had long vanished beyond the western cliffs, leaving the sky a tapestry of deep violet and bruised crimson. In the silence of the twilight, the wind carried with it whispers—remnants of ancient chants, spoken by tongues long dead. Ayla stood at the edge of the ruins, the crumbling bones of a forgotten temple laid out before her like a ghost's memory.
The scent of ash lingered in the air, faint but familiar. It stirred something deep inside her—a flicker of pain, rage, and longing. She didn't need to look back to know Kael was behind her. His presence was constant now, like the steady beat of a second heart.
"These stones…" she whispered, kneeling to touch the cracked floor, "They remember fire. Blood. A sacrifice."
Kael stepped beside her, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. His dark hair caught the last threads of light, and for a moment, he looked almost otherworldly. "You've been here before," he said gently.
"In my past life," Ayla murmured, voice thick. "This place was sacred once. I led warriors here. I offered my own fire to the gods."
Kael crouched beside her, not speaking, just waiting. There was a reverence in his silence—he never demanded answers, only offered space. And that made her ache more than any blade ever could.
She looked up at him then, her eyes reflecting the dim light of the glowing runes etched into the temple walls. "Kael… what if this power inside me isn't meant to save anyone? What if all I do is burn everything I touch?"
He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His touch was warm, grounding. "Then let it burn," he said. "Because even if the world turns to ash around you, I will stand in the flames with you."
Her breath caught. For a moment, the darkness seemed to still—no whispers, no wind, only the pounding of her heart. The heart that burns.
A pulse of energy surged from beneath the stone, and the ground trembled. The runes flared red.
Ayla stood, her expression hardening. "They're coming. The ones who guard the gate to the Shadowlands."
"Then let them come," Kael said, drawing his blade, the firelight dancing in his eyes. "We've got a war to start—and a future to claim."
Side by side, warrior and shadow, flame and steel, they prepared to face what lingered beyond the veil. For Ayla, this wasn't just a battle. It was a reckoning—with her past, with the gods, and with the fire that still lived within her.
And this time, she wouldn't let it consume her alone.
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