The air hung heavy with tension, thick with the scent of scorched earth. Smoke coiled lazily from the charred remnants of the forest, the aftermath of a battle that had shaken the land itself. Yet now, in that uneasy stillness, the true storm was about to break — not of nature, but of will.
Troady stood on the edge of a ravine, the wind tugging at his torn cloak. His eyes followed the faint glow flickering in the distance — orange, pulsing like a heartbeat. Amylo.
Lira's voice was barely a whisper behind him. "He's been gone since dawn. You think he's—"
"I know what he's doing," Troady said quietly. "He's not running. He's waiting."
A soft rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. The world around them dimmed, clouds forming in strange spirals — drawn to a single point of heat ahead. Troady stepped forward. "Stay here."
Lira grabbed his wrist. "You don't have to do this. He's your friend."
Troady met her eyes, his voice calm but resolute. "And friends deserve truth — even if it burns."
He pulled away, descending the ridge.
The clearing below was alive with flickering firelight. Amylo stood at its center, surrounded by a circle of molten lines carved into the soil, symbols glowing like living veins. The heat radiating from him was different now — not wild, not uncontrolled. It was deliberate, ceremonial.
When Troady stepped into the circle's edge, Amylo spoke without turning.
"You came."
"Did you expect me not to?"
A faint smile. "Maybe a part of me hoped you wouldn't."
Troady stepped closer, the ground crunching beneath his boots. "Why? So you could finish this alone?"
Amylo finally turned, his eyes no longer human red but molten gold. "I told you — not every fire burns for warmth."
Troady's jaw tightened. "So that's it. You're one of them."
Amylo nodded slowly. "The Council of Embers. I was sent to find the fractured one. To judge if he was threat or savior."
"Judge?" Troady's voice sharpened. "You traveled with me for days. Ate with me. Fought beside me. And now you're here to—what—kill me?"
Amylo's expression flickered with something between regret and conviction. "You think I wanted this? I didn't choose your fate, Troady. But the world is terrified of what you carry. That power—" He pointed at Troady's chest. "It's not meant to exist."
Troady's hand brushed the faint scar where the Aethern Fragment once pulsed. "Then maybe the world needs to change."
Amylo's eyes softened for a fleeting second — then hardened again. "Then prove it."
The temperature spiked. Flames roared to life around the clearing, spiraling upward like pillars of wrath. Amylo's body shimmered, runes of molten fire igniting along his arms. The air distorted with sheer intensity.
Troady drew his blade slowly, its edge catching the firelight. "Fine. But if we're doing this… no holding back."
A single nod. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Then, the world exploded.
Amylo vanished in a blur of heat, reappearing behind Troady with a sweeping arc of flame. Troady twisted just in time, sparks scattering as their attacks collided. The air between them cracked, waves of energy rippling out, splitting the earth beneath their feet.
Troady's sword flashed like lightning, his strikes sharp and relentless. Amylo countered with flowing precision — every motion a dance of fire, each step painting the air with embers.
"You're holding back," Amylo shouted over the roar.
"Maybe I don't want to kill a friend!"
"Then you've already lost!"
Amylo raised both hands, fire coalescing into a massive sphere that pulsed like a miniature sun. He hurled it forward, the explosion lighting up the sky. Troady leapt through the inferno, his body outlined in silver light, the fragment's lingering essence awakening within him.
Their powers collided again — fire against fracture, heat against divine shimmer.
The forest trembled. The sky cracked open with light.
Amylo struck low, flames snaking along the ground, forcing Troady to leap back. Troady countered, slashing down with an arc of glowing energy that split the firestorm in two.
They clashed in the center, blades of flame and light crossing in a blinding flash.
For a moment, the world stilled — both of them straining, locked in balance.
Amylo's voice broke through the roar, low and pained. "You don't understand… I'm not your enemy. But if I don't stop you, everything burns!"
Troady's voice was raw. "Then burn with me!"
A surge of power erupted from him, the ground fracturing outward in a spiral. Amylo was thrown back, landing hard on one knee. His flames sputtered, dimming under the weight of Troady's rising aura — silver threads weaving through the smoke, bending the air around him.
Amylo stared in disbelief. "You've changed…"
Troady's gaze was steady. "No. I've just stopped running from what I am."
Amylo gritted his teeth and raised his hand again, summoning one last burst of fire — a desperate strike filled with pride and sorrow. Troady stepped into it, eyes glowing, blade cutting straight through the inferno.
The flame shattered like glass.
Amylo froze, the energy fading from his body. His knees hit the ground, exhaustion overtaking him. Troady stood over him, breathing hard, sword lowered.
For a long time, neither spoke. Only the sound of crackling embers filled the silence.
Finally, Troady extended his hand. "If you wanted to judge me… you've seen enough."
Amylo looked up — then, slowly, took the hand. Their grips tightened, not as enemies, but as survivors.
"I should have known," Amylo murmured. "The fractured one wasn't meant to destroy. He was meant to remind."
Troady managed a faint smile. "Then remember this — no one wins when the world burns."
The fires around them began to fade, replaced by faint streaks of morning light. Smoke drifted upward, dissolving into the pale blue sky.
Amylo rose unsteadily, still gripping Troady's arm. "You know the Council won't stop. When they come, I can't promise I'll be on your side."
Troady nodded. "Then we'll see which flame lasts longer — theirs, or ours."
Amylo's lips curved into a tired smile. "Heh. You really don't know how to quit."
Troady sheathed his blade, glancing toward the horizon. "Guess not."
As they walked out of the smoldering clearing, a lone ember drifted on the wind behind them — a faint glimmer of gold that refused to die.
It was unclear whose fire it belonged to anymore.
But one thing was certain — the storm was far from over.
To be Continued...
Written By:-Punit Israni
Enhanced By:-Chatgpt