The storm raged, pressing against the wall of torches. The Ashbound held, their flame bound to Elira's, but Marlic's laughter cut through the blaze like a blade.
"You think loyalty will save you?" His ember eyes burned brighter, his voice thunderous. "You think that crown is your gift? Your salvation?"
Elira's chest tightened, the crown pulsing violently. "It is the memory of flame. It binds us together."
Marlic's spear lashed forward, shadow striking her shield. Sparks rained down, the ground trembling. His voice was sharp, cruel. "No, Flamebearer. That crown was forged from betrayal. It was born from fire that abandoned shadow. It is not your salvation—it is your chain."
The Ashbound faltered, torches flickering. Kael's blade gleamed with fire, his voice fierce. "Lies! You twist memory into poison."
Marlic's laughter echoed, bitter and heavy. "Then ask the crown itself. Ask it what flame gave birth to it. Ask it whose loyalty was broken to forge its power."
Visions surged through Elira's mind—flames consuming a hall, torches extinguished, a figure crowned in fire while shadows wept. The crown pulsed harder, whispering truths she had never heard.
Her breath caught. It was not born of unity. It was born of division.
Marlic pressed forward, his storm swelling. "You wield betrayal as your weapon. You bind loyalty with a crown forged from broken trust. That is why shadow endures. That is why your flame will never win."
Elira staggered, her fire faltering. The Ashbound's torches dimmed, their voices breaking. The crown blazed, but its light was no longer pure—it was fractured, heavy with memory.
Kael caught her arm, steadying her. "Do not let him break you. Flame is more than its origin. It is what you make of it."
But Marlic's roar shook the battlefield. "You cannot change what is broken. You cannot heal what was forged from betrayal. The crown is mine as much as yours—and it will consume you."