The canyon shook as Marlic's laughter echoed, smoke pouring from the cracks like a tide. His followers rose in waves—Smokebound warriors, ember-eyed and shifting between flesh and ash. The air burned with their whispers, each one a blade aimed at Elira's heart.
Kael stepped forward, blade drawn, his stance unyielding. "Stay close," he said.
Elira's mark flared, fire spilling from her palm. The crown pulsed above her chest, its glow cutting through the smoke. She nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Marlic's form—half-shadow, half-memory, his ember gaze locked on hers.
"Burn together," Marlic hissed. "Or fall apart."
The Smokebound surged.
Kael met them first, his blade slicing through smoke, sparks flying as steel clashed against ash-forged weapons. He moved with precision, every strike measured, every step protecting Elira's flank. But the whispers pressed harder, voices clawing at her mind.
He will betray you. He let me fall. He will let you burn.
Elira screamed, unleashing a torrent of flame. The fire roared outward, engulfing the first wave of Smokebound. They shrieked, dissolving into ash—but more rose behind them, endless, relentless.
Kael fought beside her, his blade and her fire weaving together in rhythm. For a moment, they were unstoppable—shadow and flame, brother and bearer. But Marlic's smoke thickened, coiling around them, separating them.
Kael's voice cut through the haze. "Elira!"
She turned, fire blazing, but the smoke wrapped around her wrist, dragging her toward Marlic. His form solidified, ember eyes burning. "The crown chose you," he whispered. "But it should have been me."
Elira's mark flared violently, the crown lifting above her head, spinning in defiance. "Then take it," she spat. "If you can."
Marlic lunged, smoke twisting into claws. Kael broke through the haze, blade striking, sparks flying as steel met shadow. The canyon erupted in fire and ash, the battle consuming everything.
And above it all, the crown pulsed—its memory burning, its choice tested.