The morning sun was dull, filtered through a sky smeared with ash-colored clouds. Elira walked ahead, her steps deliberate, eyes fixed on the winding path cutting through the blackened forest. Ash followed in silence, a measured distance behind her.
He hadn't spoken since they left the clearing. Neither had she.
But the silence between them was loud.
He stabbed me in that vision.
But was it real? Or just another lie?
Elira rubbed her wrists absently. They ached where chains had once bound her—in memory, or maybe reality.
"Say something," she finally muttered, not stopping.
Ash's footsteps faltered. "What do you want me to say?"
She turned to face him. "That you didn't do it. That the image of you driving a dagger into my back was just a trick. That I can still trust you."
Ash looked away, jaw tightening. "It wasn't like that."
Elira's stomach twisted. "Then how was it?"
He stepped closer, voice low. "I swore to protect you. I made a choice—one that cost everything. Including your trust, it seems."
The words hit harder than she expected.
Before she could reply, the trees thinned, revealing a ruin swallowed by ivy and time. A temple, or what remained of it—half-crushed by a fallen hill, its spires bent like bones.
Ash tensed. "We shouldn't linger here."
But Elira stepped forward, drawn by something she couldn't name. The air shifted, warm and humming.
And then she heard it.
A whisper in the wind: "The fire remembers."
She stumbled forward, brushing vines from a cracked wall. Etched into the stone was the sigil again—the Hollow Flame. But beneath it, a second symbol—this one carved deeper, older. A ring of fire enclosing an eye.
Elira reached out, and as her fingers grazed the stone, warmth surged into her palm.
Flashes struck like lightning:
A trial of fire.
A crown forced onto her head.
Ash, begging her to refuse.
Her voice, cold and resolute: "Burn it all."
She staggered back with a cry. Ash was at her side in an instant, steadying her.
"Elira—"
"I saw it," she whispered. "Me. But different. Cold. Like I wanted the world to burn."
Ash nodded slowly. "That was the Hollow's doing. You weren't yourself."
"But I looked like I belonged to it."
A heavy silence fell. Then Ash said, "You weren't born with that fire, Elira. It was given to you. And someone wanted you to forget what you could do with it."
Elira looked at him. "And you helped them."
His silence was answer enough.
She pulled away, the distance between them growing again.
From the shadows of the temple, a new figure emerged—tall, hooded, eyes glowing faintly amber.
Elira tensed, but the figure raised empty hands. "If you want the truth," the voice rasped, "you'll need to follow it into the dark."
Ash stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The figure bowed slightly. "An old enemy of the Hollow Flame… and perhaps your only remaining ally."