The chamber was silent—eerily so. No heat, no echoes, just the soft hum of ancient power pulsing beneath the black stone floor. Elira stood at the heart of the Emberfall Sanctum, surrounded by rings of fire suspended in midair like watching eyes.
"You asked to wield fire," Seraphine's voice echoed. "Now face what it has cost you."
A mirror rose from the ground in front of Elira, made not of glass, but of obsidian and flame. And within it, she saw… herself.
But not the version she had become. Not the fierce woman with gauntlets of power and a spine forged in battle.
No.
This was the girl she used to be—fourteen years old, her flame-colored hair dull, her eyes wide and glassy with grief. That Elira wore the tattered jacket from the day her parents died. Her hands trembled at her sides. Her lips quivered with unspoken pain.
"You're not real," Elira whispered.
The girl blinked slowly. Then she stepped forward—and cracked like porcelain.
Her form split apart into tendrils of fire, forming a monstrous figure taller than Elira, with the girl's face stretched across it like a haunting mask. Flames wrapped around its arms like chains, and its eyes burned with memories.
"You buried me," it growled, voice distorted with sorrow and rage. "You left me to rot in the ashes."
Elira took a step back, her gauntlets sparking.
"No," she said. "I became stronger. I survived."
The creature roared—and attacked.
Flames howled as claws slashed through the air, forcing Elira into a roll. She landed hard, coughing from the heat. She launched a counterstrike—two bursts of flame straight to its chest—but the creature absorbed it, growing brighter, hotter, more terrifying.
It feeds on your fury, Seraphine whispered inside her mind.
Elira stopped.
She remembered that day. The alley. Her knees scraping the gravel. Her parents' faces—one lifeless, the other in agony. And how she swore she'd never be helpless again.
She wasn't just fighting rage. She was fighting grief.
Tears stung her eyes. Her flames dulled.
"I'm sorry," she said aloud. "I should've protected you."
The monster hesitated.
Elira stepped forward slowly, unarmed. "You were scared. So was I. I'm not ashamed of you anymore."
Her voice cracked.
"I forgive you."
The flames in the creature's chest flickered… then shattered like glass.
Light burst from its core, enveloping Elira in warmth—not heat. Not destruction. Healing.
She collapsed to her knees, breathing hard as the chamber quieted. The flames surrounding the room dimmed.
Seraphine's voice echoed through the air.
"You have passed the Trial. And unlocked what few ever do."
Elira looked at her gauntlets. New runes glowed across them. Her flame had changed.
So had she.