It felt like time had split.
One second, Elliot stood grounded in flesh — breathing, bleeding, afraid.
The next, he was something more.
Something older.
The wings of fire stretched behind him — not made of feathers, but molten scripture, with runes that pulsed like a second heartbeat. The moment they rose from his back, the Messengers of Flame stopped. Their perfect formation shattered.
> They recognized him.
Not just as a boy.
Not as a bearer.
As something sacred. Something forbidden.
---
Kaelith could only stare. Not in awe, not in fear — but in heartbreak.
Because the Elliot she knew was slipping into something else, and she didn't know if she'd ever get him back.
---
The first blow came like a thunderclap.
One of the Messengers struck — a spear of searing light aimed at Elliot's heart.
But he moved faster than thought.
He caught the spear midair. Flames coiled down his arm and turned the weapon to ash. In its place, a blade of golden fire formed in his hand — jagged, raw, alive.
The Mark across his chest glowed like the eye of a storm.
> "You won't take what's mine," he said. His voice was layered now.
One voice human.
One divine.
One broken.
---
The battlefield lit up with fire and divinity.
Elliot moved through them like a storm unchained. Every slash of his blade tore holes in reality. Every burst of flame carried will — not destruction for the sake of power, but vengeance. Pain given form.
But the Messengers weren't mere soldiers.
They were reminders. Punishments in skin.
One reached him, gripped his face, and whispered something Elliot didn't understand — but felt. Like chains around his soul.
> "You were never meant to survive."
Elliot screamed as a light stabbed through his mind, pulling memories, fear, even Kaelith's name. Everything he cared about began to vanish.
Until...
---
A hand touched his shoulder.
Real.
Grounding.
Kaelith.
"You're still you," she said, fierce. "I don't care what flame lives inside you. I care who you are."
Her voice anchored him.
The light shattered.
The rune on his chest erupted in defiance — and for the first time since the Vaelion Flame awakened, Elliot wasn't just fighting with the fire.
He was controlling it.
---
He stood, flames blazing brighter than the sun.
A ring of fire surrounded them, pushing back the Messengers.
Then… Elliot dropped his blade.
Walked into the center of the field.
Raised both hands.
And whispered:
> "If you want to erase me — then know this."
"I will not vanish quietly. I will burn into your gods' memory."
Then he slammed his palms into the earth.
And the world exploded.
---
The blast was pure. Not destructive — but transformative.
The Messengers didn't die.
They remembered.
They saw Vaelion's last scream.
They saw his death, his grief, his betrayal — and how Elliot had become the vessel for all of it. Not because he was chosen…
But because he endured.
One by one, the Messengers knelt.
The war… was over.
---
Elliot dropped to the ground.
Kaelith caught him before his head hit stone.
His fire faded. His body burned. But he was smiling — even through the pain.
> "I didn't break," he whispered.
Kaelith held him tight.
> "No," she said. "You just became."
---