The streets of Ashenhold were quiet at first light, but the calm was deceptive. Ren, Liora, and Kael walked cautiously through the city gates, eyes scanning the horizon. Shadows no longer attacked in small numbers—they were organizing, spreading across villages, testing defenses, and searching for the boy who wielded the Last Flame.
Kael frowned. "If we face them alone, we'll be outnumbered in hours. We need allies, or Ashenhold is doomed."
Liora nodded. "There's one place we can try—the mage council in the capital. They may not welcome us, but they can give us knowledge… and reinforcements."
Ren's flame pulsed nervously, as if it sensed the dangers ahead. "Let's hope they don't see me as the threat," he muttered.
The capital city was a sprawling metropolis of stone towers and glowing magical lanterns. The mage council's hall was immense, filled with aged tomes and floating glyphs, pulsating faintly with protective enchantments.
The council's elders regarded the trio with suspicion. A boy with a flickering Phoenix Flame, accompanied by two young but powerful allies, was not an everyday occurrence.
"You claim to have encountered the Shadow King," one elder said, his voice gravelly. "And yet, here you stand, alive. How do we know you are not part of the problem?"
Ren stepped forward, hands glowing faintly with controlled fire. "I am no enemy. The Shadow King attacked the city. He will destroy everything if I don't stop him. You can help me, or you can do nothing and watch your people burn."
A tense silence followed. Then a young mage, no older than Ren, stepped forward. Her eyes glimmered like ice. "I am Talia," she said, voice firm. "I've felt the Shadow King's presence in the north. I believe this boy. And I will help."
From the back of the hall came another figure—a tall, muscular man with a scar across his cheek and a sword that crackled faintly with magic. "I am Borin. I fight to protect the innocent. Count me in."
Ren blinked. Allies. Real, capable allies. For the first time since the Shadow King appeared, he felt hope.
The council debated, their eyes flicking between Ren and his new companions. After long deliberation, they agreed to provide guidance, basic supplies, and access to archives of ancient magic. But they warned, "The Shadow King is cunning. He will test your loyalty, your skill… and your soul."
That night, Ren trained with his new team. Talia taught him precision ice control, showing how to combine it with his flame to create explosive reactions. Borin drilled him in combat strategy, teaching him how to move while defending allies and civilians.
When dawn came, the team set out to the villages under threat. Shadows were already at work, tearing through fields and homes. Ren led the charge, flames swirling like a dragon overhead, while Liora, Kael, Talia, and Borin coordinated magical and physical attacks.
The battle was fierce. Shadows twisted and writhed, numbers overwhelming. But together, they fought like a symphony of power—Ren's Phoenix Flame, Liora's silver light, Kael's lightning, Talia's ice, and Borin's sword strikes creating a devastating combination.
By the time the smoke cleared, the villages were safe, but the team was exhausted. Ren's flames had nearly consumed him once more, but he had kept control—barely.
Liora rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're learning faster than I expected. But this is only the beginning. The Shadow King will strike harder next time."
Ren looked at his companions—friends he had chosen, allies who would stand beside him. "Then we'll be ready," he said. "No one faces him alone."
From the shadows, unseen, a pair of golden eyes watched. The Shadow King smiled faintly. "So… the boy is not alone. Interesting. The game grows more… entertaining."