The platform beneath them surged into a great arena, forged from light and molten echoes. Around them, the Breach roared like a living storm. Above, stars blinked out, one by one — not dying, but watching.
Elara and Seris stood at its heart.
Not enemies.
But mirrors.
Seris raised her hand. A sword of flame appeared, elegant and curved, her old ceremonial blade — once used to swear peace. Now, it burned with wrath.
"I gave them everything," Seris said quietly. "And they called me a curse."
Elara's breath hitched, but she summoned her emberlight — not a sword, but a staff of woven fire and memory. The same flame that had chosen her now pulsed at her fingertips.
"You were never a curse," Elara replied. "You were the first to remember. And that scared them."
Seris lunged.
Fire met fire.
Not brute force — but intention. Their weapons clashed, and visions exploded from the contact. Ghosts danced in the air: the young Seris laughing with Isolde. Elara as a child, staring at the sky, hearing voices in the stars.
With each clash, more memories shattered free — as if their battle peeled back reality.
"You think compassion can fix a world built on lies?" Seris hissed, blade crackling.
"I think it's the only thing that can!" Elara shouted, her staff spinning a protective ring of emberlight around them both.
Seris's strikes grew faster — more desperate.
"Hope costs," she whispered. "I paid in blood. I burned alone!"
"I see that," Elara cried, pushing back. "But you don't have to keep burning. Let me carry it too!"
And then — she dropped her staff.
Walked forward.
Unarmed.
The flames roared around her.
Seris froze, blade trembling.
Elara's voice was barely a whisper: "You don't have to be the villain in the story they gave you."
And she reached out.
Touched her hand.
The fire shattered.
Not extinguished — released.
Seris crumpled to her knees.
Light poured from her — not fire, but something gentler. Softer. Like the last warmth before dawn.
She looked up at Elara, tears carving clean lines through soot-stained cheeks.
"I… never wanted to be saved."
Elara knelt beside her. "You don't have to be. Just seen."
And in that moment, the world shifted.
The Breach closed.
Not violently, but peacefully — like an old wound finally healing.