The sky bled.
Dark clouds churned above Emberreach, cloaking the sun in a perpetual twilight. Smoke spiraled from shattered homes and broken towers, painting the heavens with grief. The scent of blood, ash, and burned earth filled every breath I took as I crossed the charred remains of the eastern gate.
The world was unraveling and I was its last stitch.
The Flame burned within me, hotter than ever, aching for release. It pulsed beneath my skin, rattled in my bones, screamed in my soul. I felt every heartbeat like a war drum. Every inhale was an invocation.
Malrik waited.
He stood atop the desecrated ruins of the Oathstone platform the same sacred ground where my mother had once knelt in peace and unity. That unity was gone now, reduced to rubble under the feet of a monster.
He had become something unrecognizable. No longer man, not quite beast. His armor dripped with living shadow, its edges jagged like broken glass. Horns jutted from his head like a twisted crown, and wings of darkness unfurled from his back. His eyes two glowing pits of hatred and power locked on mine.
"Aurora Quinn," he said, voice like cracking stone. "The flamewalker arrives."
I stepped forward slowly. The ground hissed beneath my feet as my magic licked at the stones.
"I'm not here to burn," I replied. "I'm here to bind."
He sneered. "Still clinging to hope? Still hiding behind honor and restraint? How quaint. You carry the key to the final seal and you don't even understand the door it opens."
"I understand enough," I said. "You want the world to break. I won't be the hand that shatters it."
He raised his sword, the blade forged from shadow and grief. "Then die knowing you failed."
We collided with the fury of gods.
My Flame erupted outward, crashing against the darkness that oozed from his blade. The ground beneath us exploded as fire met void. The sheer force hurled rubble in every direction, knocking back the closest fighters.
I struck high, low, to the side testing him. He moved like a serpent, dodging, twisting, countering with deadly precision. When his blade met mine, the impact sent shockwaves through the air, shattering windows hundreds of yards away.
Every strike from him was filled with rage. Every strike from me was filled with purpose.
I fought with the memory of my mother's lullabies, the quiet mornings with Lucian before everything fell apart, the weight of the Moonborn who had died in silence. Each step forward was a vow:
I will not lose.
Not to him. Not to the darkness.
We battled across the ruins. From the sacred Temple Hall, now ablaze with collapsing pillars, to the broken gardens where elders once meditated. He summoned creatures from the shadows twisted beasts of claw and smoke. I answered with searing waves of Flame, burning their forms into dust.
He laughed as I fought. "Every flicker of power you release cracks the seal deeper. You cannot win. You can only break."
He hurled me through the remains of a stone archway. I landed hard, pain lancing up my spine, but the Flame surged through me, repairing my body, pushing me to my feet.
"You think I don't know what I am?" I spat. "I do. I've seen the seal. I've felt it."
His grin widened. "Then why haven't you run?"
"Because I'm not afraid of what's inside me," I said. "But you are."
Our blades clashed again this time higher, faster. We fought atop a narrow wall of stone that overlooked the valley. The battlefield below looked like a tapestry of ruin warriors locked in combat, bodies strewn like discarded dreams.
Lucian was among them. I caught a glimpse of him helping a wounded Moonborn to safety, his gaze snapping up to meet mine. Our eyes locked just for a second and it gave me strength.
Malrik saw it too.
He lunged suddenly, knocking me backward. "Weakness," he hissed. "That boy. That love. It binds you more tightly than the Flame ever will."
I rolled, dodging his blade, and leapt to the side, sending a column of fire into his chest. He screamed and stumbled but not for long.
He recovered, laughing again. "You burn brighter than the sun. But still, you won't kill me."
He stepped forward, arms wide. "Do it. Burn me. Kill me with all your might. Let the Flame consume me."
The air thickened. The Flame raged inside me. Power screamed to be released.
And I realized the trap.
Killing him with my full power unleashing everything.would break the last Seal. I wasn't just carrying it.
I was it.
"You knew," I whispered. "You knew all along."
"You are the last lock," Malrik said. "And your rage is the key."
I lowered my hands.
The Flame hissed, confused. Malrik froze.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm ending this my way."
He growled. "You think mercy will stop me?"
"No," I said. "But truth will."
I dropped to my knees and slammed my hand into the stone. Runes flared beneath us—ancient, blinding. The binding ritual my mother taught me in my dreams. The one Marcus hinted at before he died.
Golden chains of fire erupted from the earth, lashing around Malrik's limbs. He thrashed, roared, tried to take flight, but the flames wouldn't let him go. They dragged him down, deep into the ground.
"No! You fool! You're just delaying the inevitable!"
"I'll delay it until the stars fall," I whispered.
And then he was gone swallowed by the earth, sealed by blood, light, and legacy.
I collapsed.
Lucian reached me, his hands rough and warm. "You did it," he said, voice thick with awe.
I shook my head. "No. I chose. And now I have to live with what I carry."
He helped me to my feet. Around us, the valley stilled. The wind shifted. The sky cleared. Survivors rose from the rubble like seeds pushing through ash.
But inside me, something stirred.
The Flame did not rest.
The Seal had not broken but it had awakened.
And I was its vessel.