The Hollow Throne trembled beneath their feet.
Ashar stood in the shadows of the crumbling obsidian dais, his cloak of darkfire billowing behind him. Around him, remnants of the ancient hall cracked and split, veins of corrupted Veil-magic threading through the air like black lightning. He raised a hand, and the shadows themselves recoiled, dancing in time with his fury.
"You shouldn't have come here," he rasped, voice echoing with power. "You don't understand what you're trying to destroy."
Elyra stepped forward, her palm glowing with the sigil of the Flame-Veil, its light shimmering in hues of crimson and silver. Her chest tightened not from fear, but from the weight of memory. She had once believed Ashar could be saved. That there was good buried beneath the curse he had embraced.
But now she saw it clearly there was no saving the man who had surrendered his soul to darkness.
"Neither do you," she said. "You bound yourself to something that was never meant to be wielded not by one man."
Kael stood at her side, his blade humming with the resonance of ancient fire. The flames that curled around his arm were no longer wild or chaotic they answered to him now, pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"You were a Flamebound once, Ashar," Kael said, his voice calm but resolute. "But you chose the Hollow. This isn't power. It's rot."
Ashar sneered, raising both hands. A vortex of black fire and silver mist surged behind him, coalescing into the form of a monstrous wraith half shadow, half Veil-creature. Its shriek pierced the air, shaking the stones.
"You call it rot. I call it evolution."
And then he struck.
The wraith lunged at Kael, claws outstretched. Kael spun aside, meeting the beast head-on with a wave of pure fire. The impact lit the throne room in a blinding inferno, but the creature didn't falter. It swiped again, catching Kael in the ribs and sending him sprawling.
"Kael!" Elyra cried.
Ashar surged toward her, faster than thought. His hand cracked with Veil-energy, aiming straight for her heart.
But Elyra had trained for this moment.
She met his strike with a ward of brilliant light, the symbol of the Flame-Veil pulsing outward in a radiant dome. Ashar snarled as the energy scorched his arm. He fell back but only a step.
"You've grown," he muttered, circling her like a predator. "You and the Flamekeeper's heir. But you're still bound by old rules. You don't see what's coming."
"We see enough," Elyra said through gritted teeth. "We see a world you're trying to unmake."
Kael pulled himself to his feet, blood running down his side. "And we're not letting that happen."
Their bond pulsed between them more than just love. It was power. It was the bridge between fire and veil, passion and fate.
They attacked in unison.
Elyra launched a cascade of light-charged flame that burst across the room like a solar storm, while Kael surged beneath it, sword cutting arcs of gold through the air. The wraith screamed as the edge of the Flame-Veil seared into its form, unraveling its threads.
Ashar fought like a storm unbound. Every movement of his blade left ripples of darkness in its wake. The throne room shattered with every clash, stone turning to ash, banners igniting as magic collided.
"You think this ends with me?" Ashar roared. "The Hollow isn't mine alone! It was born from the Veil's betrayal. From the gods themselves!"
Elyra paused. "What did you say?"
Ashar's lips curled. "You think you've uncovered truth, little Flamebearer? You've barely scratched the surface."
He raised his hands, and from beneath the ruins, a shape began to rise an altar of ancient design, etched with runes Elyra had never seen. Her stomach dropped.
Kael stepped closer to her. "That symbol it's not just Hollow. It's both."
The runes pulsed with both Veil-silver and Flame-gold.
It was a convergence.
Ashar's grin widened. "You see it now. This power doesn't divide it unites. The Flame and the Veil were always two halves of a greater whole. And you, Elyra you are its final vessel."
Elyra stumbled back, her mind spinning. "No…"
Kael caught her, his hand curling around hers. "Don't listen to him. You're more than prophecy. You're you."
Ashar stepped toward them, eyes burning. "Let me show you what that means."
Suddenly, the altar erupted with light and a scream not of this world filled the air. Elyra felt something crack inside her a tether snapping loose. Her connection to the Flame-Veil pulsed erratically.
Kael grunted. "He's trying to sever you from it"
"Or bind her more tightly," Elyra whispered.
The throne room faded into a maelstrom of vision. Elyra was somewhere else—floating in a void of stars and ancient voices. A woman's voice called to her, gentle but sad.
"You are the last Keeper, but also the first Weaver. You must choose, Elyra. Not flame. Not veil. But something new."
A shape formed before her half her own reflection, half something older, robed in light and dark.
Back in the throne room, Kael knelt beside her limp body, rage boiling beneath his skin. Ashar watched with amusement.
"She sees the truth now. The same truth I did."
"You twisted it," Kael growled.
"Did I?" Ashar stepped back toward the altar. "When she wakes… she'll understand. And she'll choose."
Kael stood, fire rising from his shoulders. "No. She already has chosen."
He lunged.