The cavern blurred around Lyra. The glyph flared beneath her palm, light spilling up her arm like molten veins. She gasped as the world collapsed into fire—then silence.
When her eyes opened, she was no longer in stone and shadow. She stood on a bridge of glowing embers stretched across a void. Chains coiled endlessly above and below, threading into a darkness so vast it had no edges. Each link burned faintly, whispering fragments of voices, laughter, screams—echoes of lives consumed.
The air was heavy, not with heat, but with memory.
"Kaelen!" she called, her voice trembling but strong.
The embers stirred. A figure shimmered ahead—flickering like a candle in wind. It was him. His silhouette carried fire, his stance familiar, but pieces of him wavered, dissolving into sparks.
He turned slowly, eyes glowing faintly. For a heartbeat, relief flooded her chest—until he spoke.
"Who… are you?"
Lyra froze. His voice was empty, hollow. His memories—slipping.
She ran toward him, but the chain beneath her rippled, links twisting, trying to throw her into the abyss. Shadows crawled along the edges, forming shapes—faceless figures, whispering Kaelen's name like a curse.
"No," Lyra snarled, tightening her grip on her molten sword. "You're not taking him!"
The shadows lunged. She cut through them, every strike sparking light across the chain. But the more she fought, the dimmer Kaelen grew—his outline flickering, his fire guttering like a dying flame.
"Stay with me!" Lyra shouted, desperation cracking her voice. "Kaelen, you know me! You have to!"
He lifted a hand, trembling, sparks spilling through his fingers. His lips moved—barely a whisper.
"…Lyra?"
Her heart leapt. But before she could reach him, the shadows thickened, wrapping around his fading form, pulling him back toward the endless dark.
The presence's voice slithered through the void, gloating.
"You cannot hold fire without being burned. Step closer, and you will lose yourself, just as he has."
Lyra raised her sword, fire blazing through her veins. Her answer was simple, raw, unyielding:
"Then let me burn."
And with a cry, she hurled herself deeper into the chain.