The city of Virellen lay buried beneath roots and silence, ruins choked by time and magic. Statues of forgotten gods loomed over broken towers. The earth itself whispered.
The moment Elira stepped through the gates, her flames pulsed.
"This place… it remembers me," she muttered.
Kael looked around uneasily. "That's not possible."
"It is," Dante said grimly. "This is where the first wielders were created. Where the arcane chose its champions — and its monsters."
They pressed forward. Runes lit beneath their feet. Visions flickered through the air — echoes of battles past. Elira saw a girl like her, ablaze, roaring against the skies.
A voice rang out:
"Child of Ember… you return at last."