The forge chamber pulsed with heat and magic.
Fire danced not only in the braziers but in the air itself, coiling in delicate spirals that shimmered like breath on glass. The Ember Path had carried them to this buried place, but it was Eira's presence and the shard inside her that had awakened it.
Now, the forge roared with life. And the Veil were breaking against it like waves against stone.
Torin stood at the chamber's edge, his arm braced against the stone wall, blood soaking through the bandage at his ribs. He grinned despite the pain, his face flushed with effort.
"Tell me again how we're not dead?"
Lena, crouched beside a fallen villager who had taken an arrow to the thigh, shot him a look. "Because you're too stubborn to die."
"Fair," Torin muttered, then groaned. "Still remind me to not block a warhammer with my stomach next time."
The villagers fought with renewed resolve. Blades that had been cold for decades now burned with runes too ancient to translate. Hammers struck with the strength of legacy, not just steel. And the chamber itself responded. Walls flickered with shifting sigils. The ground beneath the Veil soldiers cracked as if rejecting them.
Kaela led from the front, her sword moving in brutal, precise arcs. No hesitation. No pause. She fought like someone with nothing left to lose and everything left to protect. The moment she saw Thorne fall to one knee, his side split open by a lucky blow, she was there, cutting through the attacker without a second thought.
"You're not dying," she snapped, hauling him up. "Not here."
Thorne didn't argue. He leaned into her grip, wincing, eyes on Eira.
She stood at the forge's heart.
The shard in her chest glowed so brightly it was hard to look at. Her hands hovered over the anvil, though she held no tool. Flames licked up from the coals, drawn to her like moths. Around her, the runes carved into the ancient stone pulsed in rhythm with her breath.
The forge remembered her.
It remembered what she was meant to become.
"Almost there," Eira whispered.
Then the magic surged.
With a roar that cracked the air, the forge released a burst of golden light that swept through the chamber. Veil soldiers nearest the core were thrown back, screaming as their weapons burned hot and then cold, turning brittle in their hands.
Torin let out a shaky laugh. "That'll teach them to bring steel to a firestorm."
The Veil faltered. Some turned to flee. Others pressed forward, desperate and wild-eyed. But they were too late. The forge had chosen its keepers.
And it would not let them pass.
—
High above, near the mountainside trail where Maelis had stationed her remaining vanguard, the earth shuddered.
She stood near a cracked stone monolith, its surface still humming from her last ritual. But now, now the energy was wrong. Warped. Angry.
The tether she'd tried to forge with the shard fragment pulsed once… then snapped.
Maelis gasped, staggering back as her palms seared with pain. The monolith split from crown to base with a thunderous crack. Magic spilled out, not golden like the Ember Path, but dark and smoking. Uncontrolled. Rejected.
One of her guards rushed forward. "Commander! What's happening?"
She turned to him, eyes wide. "I didn't bind it fully. The shard… it's rejecting me. It's rejecting all of us."
Even as she spoke, tendrils of fire began crawling from the ruined forge below, threading through the tunnels. Not wild, not reckless. purposeful. Like it was hunting something.
"No," Maelis hissed. "No. This isn't how it ends."
But the ground trembled again, deeper this time.
And Maelis, for the first time since she'd donned her Veil cloak, felt afraid.
—
Back in the forge, the battle waned.
Veil forces pulled back, retreating into the broken tunnels from which they'd come. The villagers didn't pursue. They were too exhausted. Too injured. And too busy gathering their own.
Lena helped an older woman to her feet, murmuring reassurances. Torin limped between the wounded, offering crooked smiles and off-key singing until someone forced him to sit down.
Kaela sat beside Thorne, watching Eira in silence.
And Eira… stood alone, swaying slightly. The forge light dimmed around her, the pulse of the shard slowing.
When Thorne finally reached her, he didn't speak. He simply took her hand.
She didn't pull away.
Behind them, the forge no longer burned with war.