The cursed blade shrieked.
It was not the sound of steel against stone or metal against metal it was a wail of agony, grief, and rage echoing from the depths of time. The ruins trembled beneath our feet. Fire exploded from the altar in a ring of black and crimson, encircling Lira like a crown of damnation.
Lira stood at the center, suspended between sanity and madness, the cursed blade floating inches above her palm. The runes etched into the altar pulsed in rhythm with the beat of her heart, which I could feel even from where I stood. Every throb shook the air like a drum summoning war.
Lucian drew his sword and shield, stepping in front of me with the natural instinct of a protector, though I felt the fire gathering in my bones. This was no longer about protecting me. This was about saving her. Saving us.
Lira turned slowly. Her eyes shimmered not just with the flame of Emberreach, but with something darker. Her face was pale, her features drawn and sharp like a painting cracked with age. But what struck me most was the emptiness in her expression the absence of the Lira I knew.
"You shouldn't have come," she said.
"We didn't have a choice," I said, voice steady. "You took the blade."
She flinched at my words. "I didn't steal it, I freed it. I saw what's coming, Aurora. The ruin. The darkness. A future with you broken and the valley in flames. I couldn't let it happen."
"By giving the blade to him?" Lucian growled.
From the shadows behind Lira, the First Flame emerged.
No longer cloaked in pretense, he stood revealed. His body was a mockery of form stitched together by will alone. Flame burned within him, but it was corrupt, flickering like a dying star. His presence bent the air, pressing down on us like gravity gone wrong.
"I gave her what you wouldn't," he said, voice like burnt coals. "The truth."
"You twisted her fears," I replied, stepping forward.
"She came to me," he said. "The Flame sang to her. It showed her what must be done. And she understood. The Seal cannot simply guard it must evolve. And evolution requires sacrifice."
"She's not your sacrifice," I said, fire building in my throat. "And neither am I."
Lira's lips parted. "I... I didn't mean for it to go this far."
Lucian took a step closer. "Then stop this. Walk away."
"I can't," she whispered. "Not now. If I do, it's all for nothing."
"I trusted you," I said, taking another step. "You were my sister. My anchor. Even when the Flame tried to consume me, I held on because of you."
She faltered, her knees buckling slightly. The cursed blade wavered.
"Lira, please," I said. "Don't let this be who you become."
For a heartbeat, everything was still. The shadows hushed. The fire dimmed. I saw her truly saw her caught between right and wrong, strength and surrender.
Then the First Flame raised his hand.
A surge of dark fire flared toward me.
Lucian lunged, shield up, blocking the brunt of it. The force knocked him backward into the broken stones.
And that was enough to break the fragile calm.
The blade shrieked again, reacting to the violence. It leapt from Lira's hand, spinning in the air like a living thing.
I reached for it instinctively. My fingers closed around the hilt.
Pain.
The blade was screaming inside my mind, shoving centuries of memory into my skull. I saw war. Betrayal. Love. The First Flame standing atop the mountain of his own fallen kin. I saw Lira her soul reaching toward mine and the path we once walked.
And then I saw me.
The Seal.
The one who was meant not to wield the blade but to judge it.
The blade quieted in my grip.
I turned toward the altar.
"I'm done letting others decide the fate of this world."
And I brought the blade down.
The altar cracked in two with a thunderous roar. Fire golden, crimson, silver erupted in all directions. The cursed sigils burned away. The ring shattered. The First Flame staggered, his body flickering violently.
"You can't!" he shrieked. "You need me! I AM THE BEGINNING!"
"No," I said. "You're the mistake we kept repeating."
I unleashed the Flame.
Not just from my hands from my soul. A torrent of light exploded from my chest, swallowing the First Flame in cleansing fire. He didn't scream. He simply vanished, like ash swept away by wind.
The silence afterward was overwhelming.
Lira collapsed beside the ruined altar, sobbing.
Lucian staggered toward me, bleeding from a cut on his brow. "You did it."
"No," I said softly. "We did."
I approached Lira. She looked up, face streaked with soot and tears. "I'm so sorry."
I knelt and touched her shoulder. "Then help me fix what's broken."
She nodded.
Together, we gathered the broken halves of the cursed blade and wrapped them in linen. Its power was gone but its legacy would remain.
We made camp that night near the edge of the cliffs. The stars shone with unfamiliar sharpness, and the air carried a solemn peace.
Lira sat beside the fire, staring into the flames.
"I forgot who I was," she said. "He made me believe I had to choose between you and the world."
"You don't have to choose," I said. "You fight for both."
Lucian glanced between us. "The Council will want answers."
"Then we'll give them the truth," I said. "They may not forgive Lira right away. But they'll know this she came back."
Lira held out her oath relic. "Should I still carry this?"
I looked at the cracked crystal and then at her. "Yes. But this time, let it remind you that loyalty isn't silence. It's courage."
In the deepest roots of Emberreach, something shifted.
The Flame had changed.
Not corrupted. Not lost.
But awakened.
And whatever came next... it would not be as simple as war.
The real story was just beginning.