Serika POV
Fire roars through my veins before my hand even moves. The altar hums like it knows my choice. My heart beats so hard it hurts. The purple glow crawls up my arm. The dragon eye watches me.
Kai's face fills my mind. He is pale on the mat. He coughs. Blood stains his lips. He tries to smile for me. He always tries. I hear his voice asking if I found the medicine. I feel the weight of my promise crush my chest.
I see the streets. Nobles laugh from high seats. Coins spill at their feet while children cry in the dirt. Guards kick an old man. No one stops them. No one ever stops them. The Empire eats and eats and never cares.
The voice waits. It does not rush me. It knows pain makes choices sharp.
I breathe in. I taste ash. I feel heat gather in my bones. My hand shakes. I think of Kai dying alone. I think of the Empire winning again.
I slam my hand on the altar.
Stone bites my skin. Cold turns to fire. My palm splits open. Blood pours out and runs across the carved lines. The runes wake. They drink. They glow bright gold and deep purple.
The altar pulses. The temple answers. The dragon eye blazes.
Pain explodes.
I scream. My voice breaks the air. Fire tears through my arm and into my chest. It feels like my bones crack. It feels like my heart burns.
I try to pull away. I cannot. The stone holds me. The runes lock tight around my blood.
Ignaroth speaks inside my head. His voice is everywhere and nowhere.
Hold on. Do not let go.
I shake. My knees buckle. Fire wraps my spine. My back arches. I taste metal. I smell smoke.
Memories flood me that are not mine. Skies on fire. Wings beating. Cities burning. Dragons falling. Screams that shake the world.
I cry for them. I cry for Kai. I cry for myself.
The fire grows hotter. My skin glows. Golden lines crawl from my hand up my arm. They burn symbols into my flesh. I feel them carve deep. I feel them claim me.
I beg. I do not know who I beg. I ask for it to stop. I ask to live.
You will live, Ignaroth says. You will burn and live.
The altar pulls harder. Blood keeps flowing. It does not slow. It should kill me. It does not.
My heart races faster. Then faster still. It beats like a drum in a war.
I feel something open inside me. A door. A flame. A roar held back for years.
It rushes out.
The temple shakes. Stone cracks. Torches flare. The air bends.
I scream again. Fire blasts from my chest in a ring. The altar answers with a thunderous beat. The runes flare so bright I cannot see.
Power pours into me. It hurts. It fills every empty place. It finds every wound. It burns them shut.
I feel taller inside. Stronger. Heavier. Lighter.
My thoughts blur. I fear losing myself. I fear becoming a weapon.
Do not fear, Ignaroth says. Remember why you chose.
Kai. The streets. The laughter.
I cling to that.
The pain spikes. It hits a peak that steals my breath. I think my heart will burst. I think my head will split.
Then it changes.
The fire steadies. It becomes a river. It flows through paths it makes itself. The runes cool to a warm glow. My blood slows.
The altar releases my hand.
I fall back. I hit the floor. I gasp like I have been drowning.
The chamber is quiet. Smoke drifts. The dragon eye dims.
My arm aches. I lift it. Golden marks glow under my skin. They move like living light. They fade and return with my breath.
I laugh and cry at once. I am alive.
I try to stand. My legs fail. The floor feels hot. My hands press down. Sparks jump from my fingers. I stare at them in shock. They answer my fear with light.
I remember the Unmarked District nights. Hunger biting my belly. Rain leaking through the roof. Kai counting breaths. Me counting coins. Three copper. Always three.
Anger rises. It feeds the flame. The marks on my arm glow brighter. The temple hums in reply.
I hear whispers in the stone. Old oaths. Old names. They slide past my ears. I do not catch them. They know me anyway.
I feel eyes on me. Not just the dragon eye. Many eyes. Spirits. Echoes. The weight of ages presses down. I am small. I am chosen.
Ignaroth shows me a path. Not in words. In feeling. Focus. Control. Breath. The fire listens when I listen.
I pull in air. The sparks dim. I let it out slow. The heat eases a little. Hope sparks with it.
If I can live through this, I can save Kai. I can fight back. I can make them pay.
The thought sharpens me. The fire steadies again. I push to my knees. My hands stop shaking.
A low sound rises from my chest. It is not a scream. It is a growl. It scares me. It thrills me.
The altar answers with a soft beat. Like a heart.
I look at the dragon eye. It watches without blinking. I feel seen. Known. Bound.
I whisper my name to myself. I hold it tight. I will not lose it.
Fear tries to take me. I push it back. I think of Kai sleeping easier. I think of the medicine in my hand. I think of guards running. I think of chains breaking. I promise myself I will learn control. I promise I will not hurt the weak. I promise I will choose when to burn. The fire listens again. It coils and waits. The marks warm, not hot. I feel the bond breathe with me. I am not alone now. I am not invisible. I am not powerless. The temple seems to lean closer, as if listening to my vow. I swear this with my whole shaking heart today.
Then the heat surges again.
It is worse. It is deeper. It is everywhere.
My chest burns. My ribs feel too tight. Something pushes from inside. I clutch my shirt. I cannot breathe.
Ignaroth's voice sharpens.
The bond is sealing.
Fire floods my lungs. I cough smoke. My vision turns red.
I am burning alive.
I do not die.