The light and shadow collided with a sound that split the sky.
Lyra was thrown backward, tumbling across the frozen ground. The Emberheart pulsed violently in her grasp, the warmth almost unbearable. Around her, the Frostveil canyon shook as flame and frost battled in the air—red fire clashing with black smoke, sparks of gold scattering like dying stars.
The Hollow King stood in the heart of the storm, his form shifting like liquid shadow. His cloak billowed outward, turning the snow to ash wherever it touched.
You think yourself chosen, his voice thundered through her mind. But the Emberheart burns brightest before it dies.
Lyra rose shakily, her breath misting. "Then I'll make sure it takes you with it."
She hurled a bolt of fire straight at his chest. It struck—then vanished, swallowed whole by darkness.
The Hollow King extended a hand. A wave of cold surged from his palm, freezing the air itself. Seris raised a barrier rune, but the ice shattered it like glass.
"Lyra!" Korran shouted, dragging her behind a fallen pillar. "We can't fight him here! The shard's protecting him!"
The Emberheart flared in Lyra's hand, reacting to the crimson crystal still trapped in the ice. Two forces—one warm, one cold—pulling toward each other. She could feel the connection.
Seris caught her gaze. "He's drawing power from the shard. If you can reach it—merge them—you might cut his link!"
Lyra nodded, heart hammering. "Cover me."
---
She sprinted across the ice, the world exploding around her. Shadow tendrils lashed out, each one slicing through rock and flame. Korran met one with his sword, shattering it into mist, while Seris carved protective runes into the snow.
The Hollow King's voice echoed again. You carry the fire that once was mine. Give it back, child, and I will spare you.
Lyra didn't answer. She slammed her hand against the frozen altar. The ice burned her skin, but she didn't stop. The Emberheart blazed in her palm, melting the frost away until the red shard gleamed beneath.
The two halves pulsed in unison—calling to each other.
The Hollow King's roar split the air. NO!
Darkness rushed forward like a storm tide.
Lyra seized the crimson shard. The moment she touched it, fire erupted from her body. The two halves fused in a blinding flash, the power slamming through her veins like lightning.
The completed Emberheart burst into flame, glowing gold and scarlet.
Her scream was half pain, half fury—but she did not let go.
The light exploded outward, tearing through the canyon, shredding the shadows that clung to the Hollow King's form. For a moment, she saw his true face—once human, eyes filled with sorrow, now hollowed into endless void.
Then the light died.
---
When Lyra's vision cleared, the Hollow King was gone. Only frost and silence remained. The air was still, too still.
Korran limped toward her. "Please tell me that's over."
Seris shook her head. "No. He didn't die. He withdrew."
Lyra fell to her knees, the Emberheart flickering weakly. "He said he would spare me… why would he—"
Before she could finish, a mark began to burn across her wrist—a sigil, black and faintly glowing. It pulsed once, then sank into her skin.
Seris's eyes widened. "That's a brand. He's bound you."
"What?"
"He's marked your soul. He can find you—track you—wherever you go."
Lyra clenched her fist. "Then I'll make sure he regrets it."
---
The Long March South
The Frostveil Wastes lay silent behind them. Days turned to weeks as the trio journeyed back through the mountains, carrying the full Emberheart in a sealed pouch. Its light seemed to hum faintly through the fabric, like a heartbeat.
Eren met them at the edge of the Sanctuary, tears in his eyes. "By the gods—you returned."
"Barely," Korran muttered.
Lyra knelt before the council, placing the sealed Emberheart on the altar. "It's whole again."
The elders looked both awed and afraid. Dareth approached, studying the crystal through its seal. "You've done what none before have. But this power… it's unstable. The Hollow King will not rest."
Seris frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The Emberheart's fusion awakened something older," Dareth said gravely. "The Flame's final guardian—an ancient sentinel forged to protect its bearer. But to summon it, Lyra must pay a cost."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "What cost?"
Dareth met her gaze. "A life for a life. To call the guardian, one of your companions must offer their soul to bind it."
Silence fell.
Korran laughed dryly. "You've got to be joking."
Seris stepped forward before Lyra could speak. "We'll find another way."
"There is no other way," Dareth said softly. "The Hollow King will rise again before the next moon. You must be ready."
Lyra looked between her friends, torn between duty and dread. The Emberheart glowed faintly, pulsing with warmth—as if listening.
---
That night, Lyra couldn't sleep. The mark on her wrist throbbed with heat, and in her dreams, she saw him again.
The Hollow King stood in a sea of black fire, his voice cold and distant.
You think power will save you?
She raised the Emberheart. "Power won't save me. But it'll end you."
He tilted his head. You cannot destroy shadow, little flame. You can only become it.
Lyra gasped awake, her hand clutching her wrist. The mark now glowed brighter, burning like an ember.
Outside, thunder rumbled. The air itself smelled of ash.
The Hollow King had returned.
---
The First Strike
By dawn, the Sanctuary burned.
Shadows poured from the forest like liquid night, devouring everything in their path. The Keepers fought valiantly, their fire spells painting the sky orange, but for every wraith they destroyed, two more took its place.
Lyra burst into the courtyard, summoning a wall of flame that split the shadow tide. Korran fought beside her, blade blazing with enchantment, while Seris chanted incantations to seal the eastern gate.
Then the air went silent—too silent.
From the flames stepped the Hollow King's emissary: a tall figure cloaked in ash and bone. His voice was the echo of his master's.
The Hollow King sends his greeting, Flamebearer. Return the heart, and your people live.
Lyra's answer was a blaze of fire that split the ground.
"Tell your master," she said, eyes burning gold, "that Ardentia bows to no shadow."
The emissary smiled—and vanished.
Then the sky itself opened.
Black fire rained down, swallowing the Sanctuary in a storm of ruin.
Lyra screamed, raising the Emberheart high. The light expanded, forming a golden dome that shielded the survivors—but at a terrible cost. The energy tore through her body, searing her veins.
"Lyra!" Seris cried, reaching for her.
"Stay back!" Lyra shouted. "I can hold it—just go!"
Her body glowed with pure fire. The last thing she saw before everything went white was Korran dragging Seris away.
Then—silence.
---
When the light faded, the Sanctuary was gone. Only ash and embers remained.
In the center stood Lyra—alone, her hair turned white as snow, the Emberheart dim in her hand.
The mark on her wrist had vanished. But the Hollow King's laughter echoed faintly in the wind.
You cannot fight the shadow forever, little flame. One day, it will claim you too.
Lyra closed her eyes, tears turning to steam.
"Then let it try."