The figure stepped into the dying light, cloak trailing ash behind him. His crown shimmered with a cold, violet glow—nothing like the fire Elira carried. Where hers pulsed with heat and memory, his radiated silence and control.
Kael moved in front of her instinctively. "Stay back."
The man tilted his head. "Still playing guardian, Kael? I thought the Order cast you out."
Kael didn't flinch. "I walked away. There's a difference."
Elira's fingers brushed the edge of her satchel. The fire crown stirred, as if recognizing its twin. Her mark burned brighter.
"You feel it, don't you?" the man said, eyes locking onto hers. "The pull. The balance. One crown cannot exist without the other. And now… they've found each other."
Elira stepped forward. "Who are you?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I am what the Order feared. What they buried. What they failed to destroy."
Kael's voice was low. "His name is Malric. He was chosen once… but the shadow consumed him."
Malric's gaze flicked to Kael. "And now it will consume her. Unless she learns to wield it."
Elira's heart pounded. "I don't want your crown."
"But it wants you," Malric said. "And soon, you'll understand. Fire burns. But shadow endures."
The ground trembled beneath their feet. From the ruins, whispers rose—not from the crowns, but from the land itself. Solmira was waking.
Kael grabbed Elira's arm. "We need to move. Now."
Malric didn't follow. He simply watched, eyes gleaming. "Run, little flame. I'll find you again."