The Ash Hunters moved in silence—no orders, no warning. Just the rasp of boots against broken stone, blades drawn in reverent violence. Their iron masks gleamed in the firelight, etched with runes designed to suppress magic, carved by the same council that had destroyed Lenara's bloodline.
She and Kael stood back-to-back, the chapel ruin now their cage.
Lenara's fire flared instinctively, pulsing from her hands, heat twisting the air. She kept her eyes on the hunter in front of her—tall, sword low, shoulders hunched like a beast in armor.
"They fear you," Kael said under his breath. "That's why they sent these."
"I'm starting to enjoy being feared."
The first hunter lunged.
Lenara stepped sideways, flame erupting from her palm, a whip of heat slashing across the stone floor. The hunter twisted unnaturally fast, blade raised to block. Her flame collided with his sword, exploding in a burst of light.
He didn't stop.
Kael met him mid-charge, steel against steel, the clash sharp and brutal. Kael moved with precision—calculated, brutal, like a man who had trained with monsters and now fought to undo what he once enforced.
Another hunter leapt through the shattered stained-glass window behind them.
Lenara spun, fire coiling around her arms like serpents. She released it in a single, focused blast. The hunter's cloak ignited instantly, but he kept coming—an inferno walking.
She gritted her teeth. "Why aren't they burning?"
"They're warded!" Kael shouted, parrying a blow that sent him sliding across the floor. "They were made to kill people like you!"
"How poetic," she growled.
Lenara stepped forward, thrusting both palms outward. This time, she didn't summon fire. She became it.
A wave of flame surged from her chest, sweeping the chapel like a storm. The ash-covered walls glowed red as the spell surged across them, licking stone and shadow alike. The fire didn't touch Kael—but the warded hunters staggered, some pushed back, their runes flaring as they resisted the blast.
Two dropped—one dead, one dazed.
Kael took the opportunity and drove his blade through the fallen hunter's throat.
The last one charged her.
Lenara caught his strike with her bare hand, fire surging around her arm like armor. The sword hissed as it met her magic, but she didn't flinch. She twisted, yanked the blade free from his grip, and drove her flame-wrapped fist into his chest.
He collapsed, smoke curling from his mask.
The chapel fell silent again—except for the crackle of dying fire and Lenara's heartbeat thundering in her ears.
She turned to Kael, panting. "Was that all of them?"
Kael didn't answer.
He was kneeling by one of the corpses, eyes fixed on the runes burned into its armor.
"What is it?" she asked.
He stood slowly, jaw tight. "These weren't just hunters."
She moved closer. "What do you mean?"
He turned to her, expression unreadable. "One of them was from my old unit. The Bloodsworn."
"The elite assassins?" Lenara asked, stunned.
He nodded. "They don't get reassigned. Ever. If they're here, it means the council knows I survived. And they're not just hunting you anymore."
Lenara's fire dimmed. The room seemed colder.
"So they sent them to kill us both."
Kael didn't deny it.
"They won't stop," she whispered.
"No," he said. "They won't."
She studied him. Kael had always moved like a soldier, but tonight, there was something more—tension in the set of his shoulders, the way he stared too long at the corpses. A hesitation.
"You recognized him," she said. "Not just his unit. Him."
Kael looked away.
"Was he your friend?"
"He was my second-in-command."
Lenara stepped closer, her voice softer now. "You said you broke your oath to protect me. Was that your only reason?"
Kael finally met her gaze.
"There was a second prophecy," he said quietly. "One they kept buried even from the council. A fireborn child, yes. But also... a warrior with blood on both sides. One born from flame. One born from ash. A union that would restore balance or destroy it."
She frowned. "You think that's us?"
"I know it is."
Her breath caught. The weight of that truth crashed over her like a wave. This wasn't just vengeance. It wasn't just legacy. It was prophecy. Fate.
"You knew all along?"
"I suspected," Kael said. "The first time I saw you as a child, I felt it. The fire inside you called something awake in me. Something I thought the Guard had beaten out of me."
She took another step forward. "So when you protected me... it wasn't just guilt?"
"No," he said softly. "It was the first time I chose something for myself."
Their eyes locked.
And in that breathless, burning moment, the space between them vanished.
Lenara reached for his hand, and their fingers touched—flame meeting steel, magic meeting memory.
But the fire didn't lash out.
It curled around their hands, soft and golden, a quiet echo of something ancient and destined.
"We should leave," she said, though her voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Yes," he agreed, but his hand didn't pull away.
Outside, the wind carried the faint sound of horns again—distant but drawing closer.