The shadow that emerged from the Veil had no face, no voice—only presence. It consumed light as it moved, bending the air, cracking the sky with its silent hunger. Kael and Aerin stood before it, their flames small in comparison, yet unwavering.
Together, they cast their fire not as weapons, but as a wall—pure, golden, humming with memory. The shadow struck it like a tidal wave, but the flame held.
"Focus on what we are," Kael said, his voice steady.
"On who we were," Aerin added.
The mark on their wrists pulsed in unison. From deep within the earth, the flame responded—not just the one Kael carried, but all the forgotten fires of bearers long gone. Their strength poured into the brothers, ancient and fierce.
The creature howled without sound. Tendrils of darkness lashed out, but they were met with a surge of brilliant light. The brothers pushed forward, step by step, until they stood at the edge of the Veil itself—where the shadow bled into this world.
Kael looked to Aerin. "Now."
Together, they released everything—the fire of their bond, the truth of their trial, the pain, the hope.
The light exploded outward, swallowing the dark.
When the blaze faded, the Veil had sealed once more. The sky was quiet. The earth, still. The throne room stood in ruin, but peaceful.
Aerin collapsed beside Kael, barely breathing.
"You saved me," he whispered.
"No," Kael said, helping him sit. "We saved each other."
Outside, dawn broke over Velmara for the first time in weeks. The sky held no fire—only soft, golden light.
The Flame had whispered. They had listened.
And now, Kael knew the truth.
The fire wasn't just a power.
It was a promise.
That even in ruin, something brighter could rise.