They didn't stop running until the ruins disappeared behind them.
Elira's lungs burned, her legs ached, but the whispers in her mind were louder than ever. The crown pulsed with urgency, as if it sensed Malric's presence had stirred something ancient and dangerous.
Kael led her through a narrow ravine, the walls etched with faded runes. "We're close," he said. "There's a chamber beneath Solmira. The Order sealed it centuries ago."
Elira glanced back. "Why?"
Kael hesitated. "Because it holds the truth about the crowns. And the fire that created them."
They reached a stone door half-buried in ash. Kael pressed his marked wrist to the surface. The runes flared, and the door groaned open.
Inside, the air was thick with heat and memory. Murals lined the walls—depictions of two crowns, two bearers, and a war that split the sky. Elira stepped closer. One mural showed a woman with flame in her eyes, standing against a man cloaked in shadow.
"She looks like me," Elira whispered.
Kael nodded. "She was the first flamed bearer. The crown chose her to restore balance. But the shadow crown corrupted its bearer. They became enemies. Lovers. Then enemies again."
Elira's mark flared. The mural shimmered—and the woman turned her head, eyes locking onto Elira's.
She stumbled back. "Did you see that?"
Kael's voice was low. "The crown is awakening your connection. You're not just its bearer. You're its echo."
Suddenly, the chamber trembled. A crack split the floor, and fire surged upward—not wild, but controlled. It wrapped around Elira's wrist, forming a second mark.
Kael stepped back, stunned. "It's giving you its memory."
Elira's eyes glowed with flame. "Then it's time I learned who I really am."