The fire hissed as if in warning, its light guttering under the weight of the stranger's presence. Elira's fingers curled into the damp earth beneath her, the cold seeping into her skin, but she couldn't look away from the figure standing at the edge of the firelight.
Familiar. Dangerous.
Ash's blade was already drawn, his body angled between Elira and the intruder. "Last chance," he growled. "Step into the light or disappear."
A low laugh slithered through the dark. "Still playing the guard dog, Ash? Some things never change."
Elira's breath hitched. That voice. It scratched at something buried deep—a memory wrapped in smoke, just out of reach.
The stranger took a step forward, and the firelight carved sharp lines into a face that made Elira's pulse stutter.
Hollow eyes. A scar like a crack through stone.
"Veylan," Ash spat, his grip tightening on his sword.
The name sent a jolt through Elira. She knew it. Knew him.Fragments collided in her mind—a dark corridor, hands shoving her forward, a voice whispering, "Burn it all."
Veylan tilted his head, studying her. "Ah. You do remember. Not enough, though. Not yet." He flicked his fingers, and the fire bent, its flames twisting into a shape—a sigil Elira had seen etched into her own skin in dreams.
The Hollow Flame.
"You were never supposed to forget," Veylan murmured. "But he made sure of that." His gaze slid to Ash.
Ash's jaw clenched. "Elira, don't listen—"
"Why?" Elira interrupted, her voice raw. "Why did you take my memories?"
Veylan's smile was a blade. "We didn't. He did." He pointed at Ash. "To protect you? Or to keep you from realizing what you are?"
The fire roared suddenly, its heat lashing at Elira's cheeks. The voice from before whispered again, but this time, it was inside her skull:
"Remember the trial. Remember the fire."
And then—
A stone chamber. Chains on her wrists. Ash, younger, bloodied, screaming her name as flames engulfed her—
Elira gasped, staggering back. Ash caught her arm, his touch burning. "Look at me," he demanded. "Whatever he's showing you, it's not the whole truth."
Veylan sighed. "Isn't it?" He raised a hand, and the fire split, revealing an image in its heart: Elira, clad in blackened armor, a crown of flames atop her head—and Ash driving a dagger into her back.
"Enough!" Ash lunged, but Veylan vanished into the shadows, his laughter curling like smoke.
The fire snuffed out.
Darkness swallowed them.
Elira's hands shook. The visions clung to her, sticky as tar. Were they lies? Or had Ash really—
"Elira." Ash's voice was rough. "Whatever he showed you… it's what the Hollow Flame wants you to see. Not what happened."
"Then tell me what did happen," she whispered.
Silence.
Somewhere in the trees, an owl cried. The wind carried the scent of charred wood—or maybe it was just the ghost of the fire, still whispering.
Ash exhaled. "We need to keep moving. Now."
But Elira didn't move. The past was a maze, and every turn led her deeper into the dark.