The temple of Haldrith shook as the wraiths descended, their bodies of ash and fire twisting like smoke made flesh. The air burned with their screams, each one clawing at the mind as much as the flesh.
Kael's Moonsilver Sword flared, silver arcs cleaving through the first wave. Where the blade struck, the wraiths shrieked and dissolved, their voices torn away in sparks of light.
"Isolde—get the crown!" Kael shouted, cutting down another that lunged for her.
But Varrow was faster. His shadow coiled like a serpent, striking across the temple floor, wrapping itself around the altar. The Crown of Dawn lifted into the air, glowing fiercely against his darkness.
Varrow's smile curved, cruel and knowing. "Light, flame, blade—it all bends in the end."
Isolde's fire surged, golden radiance blasting back the shadows. The crown wavered in the air, caught between her pull and Varrow's. Sparks of light and dark clashed above the altar, the relic trembling as if resisting both.
The wraiths swarmed. Kael fought like a storm, the Moonsilver Sword blazing with every strike, his breath ragged but unyielding. Still they pressed closer, endless, relentless.
"Kael!" Isolde cried, straining against Varrow's power. Her mark seared like molten fire, the Hollow's whispers rising in her ears. Take it. Claim it. Burn him with it. Burn them all.
She faltered, the temptation flooding her veins. For a heartbeat she saw herself not as savior but conqueror, the crown blazing upon her brow as armies knelt or burned.
Kael's voice cut through the storm, raw and desperate. "Isolde! You are more than his fire—don't let him take you!"
His words struck her like steel. She steadied, forcing the whispers back, and poured her will not into taking the crown but into freeing it.
The relic flared, blinding white. Varrow hissed, shadows unraveling, the hunters shielding their eyes. The wraiths shrieked and crumbled, their forms undone by dawn's light.
The Crown of Dawn dropped onto the altar with a ringing note, pulsing as though alive.
Isolde staggered forward and seized it in both hands. The moment her skin touched the metal, searing light raced through her veins, fire and dawn twining into one. She gasped as visions flooded her—cities burning, chains breaking, the Shadow King rising—but also warriors of old standing beside her, flame and blade united against the dark.
Kael caught her as she fell to her knees, the crown clutched to her chest. "Isolde—"
Her eyes blazed gold, her voice echoing with something greater than herself. "It's not just a relic… it's a promise. A piece of the first oath. And it comes with a price."
Varrow rose from the shadows, his cloak singed but his eyes glittering with venom. "Then wear it, flame. Bind yourself tighter to the fate you cannot escape. Every relic you claim, every spark you kindle, it all brings the Hollow closer to breaking."
Before Kael could strike, Varrow melted into smoke, retreating into the ruins, his laughter lingering like a curse.
Silence fell, broken only by Isolde's ragged breaths and the crown's faint glow.
Kael touched her cheek, steadying her. "Are you with me?"
She nodded weakly, clutching the relic. "Always. But Kael… the more we claim, the less I feel like myself."
He gripped her hand firmly. "Then I'll remind you who you are. Every step. Every battle. Until the end."
The Crown of Dawn pulsed, its light reflecting in their eyes. They had won—but the relic's power carried both hope and peril.
And far below, in the Hollow's depths, another chain cracked.
The Shadow King smiled.
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