The battlefield was still warm. Bodies of fallen enemies crackled with residual energy, yet Elira felt none of the usual satisfaction.
A whisper rode the wind.
"Elira…"
She froze. That voice… it was familiar. It wasn't Kael's. Not Dante. It was…
"Mother?" she said aloud, heart pounding.
Kael looked up sharply. "What did you say?"
She didn't answer. She turned toward the direction the whisper had come from. Her feet moved on their own, deeper into the ruins, until the fog swallowed her whole.
And then she saw her.
A figure in white, hovering just inches above the ground. Her face was hidden beneath a veil of light, but the voice—the warmth—was unmistakable.
"Elira, you must go deeper."
Elira stepped forward. "Are you real?"
The woman didn't reply. Instead, the mist parted to reveal a forgotten door embedded in the ground—ancient, glowing with arcane markings Elira's flames couldn't burn through.
Kael shouted her name from behind—but she was already gone.
The door creaked open.