đź“–
Chapter 25 – Ashes on the Wind
The city of Valebridge was never quiet again.
Bells clanged from every spire, their metallic cries splitting the night. Torches flared along the stone walls, guards rushing like ants stirred from their hill. The people woke from their sleep to whispers that spread faster than fire:
The Fire-Touched has escaped.
Nyra ran through the narrow streets, her breath sharp and ragged. The cobblestones scraped her bare feet, but she didn't stop. The taste of iron and smoke filled her mouth, and every step was chased by the echoes of her crime.
Beside her, Nox Wilder kept pace with an ease that unsettled her. His dagger caught the moonlight, his eyes gleaming like a predator in the dark.
"They'll search every alley," Nyra hissed. "We need to leave the city."
"And run where?" Nox smirked, his voice smooth and venomous. "Into the arms of your 'allies'? The same council that chained you like a dog? No, Nyra. If you want to survive, you need me."
She shot him a sharp look. "I freed you, not the other way around. Don't think for a second I trust you."
The smirk deepened. "Good. Trust is a leash. Fire should never wear one."
They darted through a tangle of side streets until they reached the outer market. Stalls of fruit and grain stood abandoned under the moonlight, shadows stretching long across the square. Nyra slowed, catching her breath, her hands still glowing faintly with embers.
The night air carried the faintest scent—burnt ash. But it wasn't from her. It was… familiar.
And then she saw him.
At the far end of the square stood Kael Stormborn, the prince of Valebridge, his cloak lined with silver thread, his blade gleaming like lightning bound in steel. His eyes met hers—cold, sharp, filled with a storm's fury.
"Nyra Wynn," his voice carried like thunder, calm yet merciless. "By order of the High Council, you are to be taken alive. Do not resist."
The ground seemed to tremble beneath his words. Nyra's chest tightened. Kael. Once, they had trained side by side, laughed in the same halls, even dreamed of the same future. But that was before betrayal burned bridges between them.
"Kael…" she whispered, her voice a crack in the night.
His jaw tightened. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
Nox stepped forward, dagger raised, his smile sharp. "Charming speech, princeling. But fire doesn't bow to storms."
Kael's blade flickered with lightning as he drew it. "Then it burns out."
The square fell silent, the world holding its breath. Fire sparked in Nyra's palms, lightning danced along Kael's blade, and Nox's dagger glinted like death itself.
Three powers. Three paths.
And in that moment, the fate of Valebridge trembled on the edge of a single spark.