The candle-bearer's light flickered once… twice… then died.
Darkness slammed over the stair like a wave, swallowing every shred of warmth. Kaelen's chest froze. For a heartbeat, there was nothing. No fire. No steel. No hope.
The phantom-Lyra's whisper slid into his ear. "See? Even the smallest flame abandons you. Always the same ending."
His golden blaze sputtered, strangled by doubt. He fell to both knees, ash curling around his hands.
Lyra felt the void crash into her as well, her blade suddenly heavy as stone. The phantom-Kaelen towered over her, his black fire rising like a storm. His words cut deeper than any strike.
"You were forged to fight, not to feel. That's why no one stays with you. Not Kaelen. Not anyone."
Her fingers trembled on her sword hilt. For a moment, she almost dropped it.
And then—
A sound broke through the silence.
A small voice. Weak, but defiant.
"I… I'm still here."
Kaelen's head snapped up. The candle-bearer's hands glowed faintly, trembling with effort. Though the flame was gone, its memory burned in their chest. A spark—not of fire, but of will.
"Light isn't just in the flame," they whispered, tears streaking down their face. "It's in us. And you can't take that away."
The watchers hissed, the void trembling. The phantoms faltered, their edges blurring.
Kaelen felt something shift inside him. His fire flared—not because he forced it, but because Lyra's gaze met his across the dark. Her grip steadied, her sword lifting once more.
"You're right," she said hoarsely. "They can't break us unless we let them."
Kaelen surged to his feet, golden blaze roaring back to life. Lyra's blade caught his fire, glowing with molten light. And between them, the candle-bearer's spark reignited—small, but brighter than before, born of defiance.
The phantoms shrieked as the light seared through them, unraveling their lies thread by thread.
The watchers' voice thundered across the stair, sharper now, less certain.
"Impossible. Fractures do not mend. Unity does not endure."
Kaelen's voice cut back, fierce and unyielding.
"Then watch us prove you wrong."
The stair shook as the illusions shattered, light tearing open the dark. For the first time, the watchers hesitated.
And that hesitation meant victory was possible.