The storm was gone.
Only the silence stayed behind — heavy, endless, cruel.
Elara woke to the smell of smoke and rain. The forest around them was nothing but ash and half-dead trees whispering in the wind.
Lucien wasn't beside her.
For a heartbeat, she thought maybe he'd gone to find food or shelter.
Then she saw the trail — faint gold drops of blood glowing against the ground.
Her pulse quickened. "Lucien…?"
The wind didn't answer.
She followed the trail until it ended at the edge of a ruined bridge.
There, lying on the cracked stone, was Lucien — half-conscious, his skin carved with burning sigils, his body trembling like the fire inside him was eating him alive.
"No, no, no…"
Elara dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms. His body was cold. Too cold.
"You promised me you wouldn't do this again!"
Lucien tried to speak, but only a faint, broken whisper came out.
"They found us… I had to—"
"You don't have to destroy yourself every time!"
The mark on her wrist pulsed violently, reacting to his pain. Gold light spilled from her veins, wrapping around him like desperate threads trying to hold him together.
He caught her wrist weakly. "Stop. It'll hurt you."
"Then let it!" she shouted, tears mixing with rain. "You think I care about pain anymore?"
The light between them surged — then shattered.
A flash of memories hit her again — not hers, but his.
A small boy standing alone in a burning city.
A woman screaming his name before the flames swallowed her whole.
And the sound — not of fire, but of falling stars — crashing, dying, fading away.
Elara gasped, clutching her chest. The pain wasn't physical; it was remembered grief, something her soul recognized even if her mind didn't.
Lucien's voice broke the silence.
"Every time the fire saves someone… it takes something from me."
"Then stop saving people."
He smiled faintly, his lips trembling. "I tried. But then I met you."
She shook her head, eyes wet. "You don't even know me."
"Maybe I did. Maybe a thousand lifetimes ago."
He coughed, blood flecking his lips, glowing gold before fading into the rain.
"You were always the reason I remembered what warmth felt like."
The words shattered her completely. She pressed her forehead to his, voice breaking.
"Don't talk like that. Don't you dare leave me now."
The light in his chest flickered. "Elara…"
"Lucien, please—"
"If I lose the fire, the hunters win. If I keep it, I lose you. Tell me what I'm supposed to choose."
She looked at him, her hands trembling against his face.
"Then burn the world. Just don't leave me in the dark."
A tear slipped down his cheek — golden this time. He smiled, and it was the saddest thing she had ever seen.
"You always say that," he whispered. "Every lifetime."
And then… silence.
The fire in his mark dimmed, leaving only the faint glow on her wrist — a heartbeat trying not to die.
Elara screamed into the storm, the sound ripping through the ruins, through the sky, through whatever gods were still listening.
But no one answered.
Only the stars fell that night — burning out one by one —
as if the heavens themselves mourned the boy made of fire.