The cloaked figures moved like predators, silent and sharp, fanning into the broken chamber with deadly precision. Lira's heart pounded in her ears, but Kael didn't flinch.
"Stay behind me," he whispered, slipping two curved blades from the sheaths across his back.
Lira could barely breathe. Her hands trembled, the echo of the song still clinging to her fingertips.
One of the attackers stepped forward, lowering their hood.
It was a woman—with pale, rune-carved skin and eyes like black glass. Her voice was smooth and cold.
"You were supposed to silence her, Kael. Not protect her."
"I stopped taking orders," he said, stepping in front of Lira.
The woman sneered. "And now you die beside a weapon that doesn't even know how to wield herself."
Before Kael could react, she lunged.
The room exploded into motion.
Kael met her strike with steel, and the others closed in, blades singing through the air. Lira stumbled back, adrenaline rushing, fear rising—but something else stirred beneath it.
The scroll.
Still glowing on the stone floor.
She reached for it, desperate, and as her fingers brushed the edge, music burst behind her eyes. Not sound—but memory. Words. Notes. Power.
> "Let fire rise where silence falls… let the voice become the flame."
Lira stood, eyes glowing faint gold.
She opened her mouth—and sang.
The air shook.
The notes were raw and wild, like thunder woven into melody. One of the cloaked assassins dropped their weapon, clutching their ears. Another screamed as light cracked across the floor.
Even Kael stopped mid-swing.
The lead assassin turned toward Lira, fury and awe mixing on her face. "She's awakening..."
Lira's voice faltered, the power draining, her knees giving out—but Kael caught her before she fell.
The rest of the assassins fled into the shadows, leaving behind only the scent of smoke and the echo of that haunting melody.
Kael looked at Lira, still glowing faintly.
"You just sang a fire spell," he whispered, voice shaken. "That's Hollow magic. Forbidden magic."
Lira looked at her hands. "I didn't know I could…"
"You didn't. Until now."
Their eyes met.
And for the first time, Lira saw fear—not from herself, but from him.
Not of her… but for her.
"They'll come harder next time," he said quietly. "And if you can't control that song…"
"I'll learn," she said, voice steady. "I have to."