"Aurea, MOVE!" Kael's roar split the air a heartbeat before the Frostwrought King raised his hand.
A cascade of glacial wind exploded outward, crashing against the cavern walls like a living avalanche. Riven yanked Aurea back, shielding her with his body as shards of ancient ice sheared through the space they'd just occupied.
The King stood—fully risen now from his prison, towering over them all.
He was carved of frost, regal and alien. Not just a creature of the cold, but its sovereign embodiment. The frozen air obeyed him, curled around his limbs like faithful dogs. His voice, when it came again, struck the bone.
"You are no flame. You are an ember."
Aurea tore herself from Riven's arms, fire flaring around her fists. Her glyph pulsed hot, veins glowing gold. "Then let's see what an ember can do."
She hurled a blast of flame toward the King's chest.
It never reached him.
The fire died midair—snuffed out like breath on a windowpane.
The King's eyes narrowed, ancient frost twisting his lips into a cruel smile.
"You've inherited so little of what was once glorious."
Kael lunged in with his blade, aiming for the thing's side, but it was like striking a glacier with a toothpick. His sword skidded off the King's armor of living ice, and a backhand from the creature sent Kael crashing into a stone pillar with a grunt.
"KAEL!" Aurea screamed.
Riven was already moving, blades drawn. He danced around the King's legs, slicing, slashing—seeking weak points.
None existed.
Each cut froze over before it landed.
The Frostwrought King didn't bother to look at him.
Instead, he walked toward Aurea.
Eryan appeared behind him, flipping through the air like a dark flame. Twin daggers plunged toward the back of the King's neck—striking true.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then the daggers froze. Cracked. Shattered.
The King turned, and with a flick of his wrist, a wall of ice erupted beneath Eryan, sending him sprawling backward with a grunt of pain. He slammed into the cavern floor, rolling hard.
Aurea's chest heaved. She stood alone.
Her allies were scattered, injured or stunned.
The King stopped a few paces from her, gaze cold and unblinking.
"You are the daughter of Arvyn."
"The Flamebreaker," Aurea hissed, fury in her tone.
"He was wise to bow. Will you?"
"Not a chance."
She gathered fire again, trying to pull deeper this time, not just from the glyph but from something inside her bones. It responded—sluggishly, but there. An echo of heat, a memory of infernos long dead.
She screamed, thrusting both hands forward, and this time the fire was not gold, but white—searing, soul-deep.
It struck the King square in the chest.
The ice hissed. Cracked.
The King staggered back a step, hand rising in defense. A growl—not pain, but surprise—rattled the chamber.
"You are more than him," he said, voice lower now. "Interesting."
Kael groaned nearby, forcing himself upright with a bloodied palm. "We're not done yet."
He charged again, and this time when his sword struck, it left a gash.
Riven joined, his speed blurring, harrying the King's flanks while Eryan pulled himself to his feet and began carving glyphs in the air with bleeding fingers. Sigils of binding and suppression glowed, spinning through the frost-filled air like burning snowflakes.
The Frostwrought King turned, suddenly taking them all seriously.
With a roar, he summoned a spear of ice as tall as Kael and hurled it toward Aurea.
She didn't dodge.
She caught it.
Mid-air, her glyph exploding in a detonation of heat that melted the spear to mist. She stood within the rising steam, eyes aglow with power she didn't fully understand.
"I'm not just flame," she said. "I'm the storm it rides on."
She leapt forward—and with her, came her team.
Kael at her side. Eryan above. Riven in perfect sync.
They moved not as individuals, but as one.
Together, they drove the Frostwrought King back.
The fire and steel, the shadows and sigils—each blow coordinated, fueled by the bond that had grown between them since their journey began. The King howled, staggering, ice crumbling from his form with each strike.
They reached the dais again. The shattered coffin still pulsed with dormant energy.
"We can't kill him," Aurea gasped. "We have to seal him."
"But how?" Kael shouted. "The bindings are broken!"
Riven flicked a shard of ice from his blade. "Not all of them."
Eryan's voice came tight. "We use her. Use us."
Aurea turned. "What—?"
"Our blood, our glyphs. You anchor it," Eryan said. "We bind him. Four points. One lock."
"But the cost—"
Riven grinned, even through blood. "We've already paid it. Every step we took to get here was a thread in the chain."
Kael stepped forward, his hand over hers. "Let's finish it."
Aurea closed her eyes. Let the fire build.
Around her, they chanted. Sigils flared in a square—red, silver, black, and gold.
The King's eyes widened. "No."
He surged forward.
Too late.
Aurea screamed.
The glyphs detonated.
Chains of flame and shadow erupted from the ground, wrapping the King in burning frost and melting ice. He writhed—howled—not in pain, but in rage. The bindings dragged him toward the coffin, reforged now in light and ancient magics.
He fought.
They held.
And as the last chain snapped shut, the King looked at Aurea with one final hiss.
"You cannot bind what is already unbound."
And then—
Silence.
The coffin sealed.
The bindings dimmed.
The Frostwrought King was gone.
They collapsed in a heap, panting and bleeding. Kael slumped beside her, head against the icy stone.
Riven sat cross-legged, sharpening a blade that didn't need it, trying not to shake.
Eryan lay flat, chest rising and falling, his daggers melted to stubs.
Aurea stared at the coffin.
"I thought that was it," she whispered. "I thought we did it."
Her father's voice came from the shadows.
"You did."
They turned.
Arvyn stood at the cavern entrance, pale and shaking. His hands glowed faintly with magic residue.
"But the seal won't last," he said.
Aurea stood slowly. "What?"
"He's the first, but not the last. There are others—five more. And they're waking."
She stared at him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying…" Arvyn stepped forward. "You've only just begun."