Riven stepped back, hands up, but Elira didn't lower her weapon.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice rough with distrust.
He exhaled. "Looking for the same thing you are. Answers."
She kept her stance firm. "You disappeared the night Kael betrayed me. Makes you either guilty… or a coward."
A bitter smile played on Riven's lips. "Fair. But I didn't run. I was captured."
Her eyes narrowed. "By who?"
He hesitated. "The Order of Withering Light."
The name sent chills through her spine. The Order was whispered in the streets like a ghost story—people who twisted abilities, turning wielders into monsters.
Riven continued, voice low. "They're not just experimenting anymore. They're organizing. And they're looking for you."
Elira's eyes flared.
"I saw your name carved in stone. 'The Ember Bearer.' You're more than a weapon now. You're prophecy."
She stepped back slowly, lowering her arm just a little.
Prophecy. She hated that word.
It made her feel less like a person and more like a tool waiting to be used… or broken.
"You didn't come to warn me," she said coldly. "You came because you think I can stop them."
"I came because they're hunting me too," Riven said, meeting her eyes. "And because I owe you. For everything I didn't say… and everything Kael did."
The silence between them stretched long and heavy.
Finally, she nodded once. "Talk. But if you lie, you'll die before your next breath."
Riven chuckled, almost fondly. "There's the Elira I remember."
But as the flames dimmed on her gauntlet, her heart remained ablaze.
Kael was still out there.
And ghosts were returning—some with regrets, others with knives.