The vision still burned in Elira's mind—Kael falling, shadow dragging him down, her own fire consuming her. The crown pulsed, whispering doubt, but she refused to let it rule her.
She rose from the firelight, crossing to where Kael stood sharpening his blade. "I saw it," she said, voice steady. "The crown showed me you falling. It told me you would betray me. But I don't believe it."
Kael looked up, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
Elira lifted her wrist, flame sparking at her fingertips. "Because you stood when I faltered. Because you fought when I doubted. Because loyalty is not a vision—it's a choice. And I choose to trust you."
The crown pulsed violently, testing her resolve. For a moment, the fire flared too bright, threatening to consume her. But Elira held firm, forcing the blaze into her palm, shaping it into a steady flame.
Kael's gaze softened. He set his blade aside, stepping closer. "You've earned it," he said quietly. "Not because the crown says so. Not because memory demands it. But because you stood against shadow and chose me."
Elira's chest tightened, the crown glowing brighter, no longer whispering doubt. For the first time, it pulsed in harmony with her heartbeat.
Kael reached for her hand, steady and sure. "Then let's fight together. Flame and steel. Until the end."
Meanwhile…
Across the valley, Marlic's army surged. The Smokebound roared, their forms solid, weapons gleaming with shadow. Marlic stood at their center, ember eyes blazing.
"She trusts him," he hissed. "Then let her burn with him."
The counter‑attack was no longer a march. It was a storm. And it was coming for them.