The magic burst from Elara's hands like wildfire.
The shadow creature screamed as her spell struck, its form unraveling in a spray of smoke and black embers. Two more lunged from the trees, but Kael moved like a phantom, his wardblade slicing through the dark with deadly precision.
Elara turned, casting again. This time, her magic surged brighter, hotter. Runes shimmered in the air around her, ancient and untamed. The forest trembled.
Kael glanced back between strikes, surprise flashing across his face. "That spell where did you learn it?"
"I didn't," Elara said breathlessly. "It just… came."
Kael drove his blade into the last creature, and the air fell silent again.
He approached her slowly, the tension still thick. "You used flame-summoning without a circle or a spoken invocation. That magic hasn't been seen since the Wyrn Kings."
Elara's hands shook. Her fingertips still glowed with heat. "It felt like instinct. Like something waking up inside me."
Kael looked troubled. "That kind of raw power can burn you from the inside out."
"Then I'll learn to control it," she said, squaring her shoulders.
He studied her for a long moment, and something in his expression softened. Respect. Maybe even awe.
"You remind me of her," he murmured. "Your mother."
Elara's breath caught. "You knew her?"
Kael nodded slowly. "I served under her before she disappeared. She was strong. Fearless. And she loved you more than anything."
A silence settled between them thick with old grief and new questions.
Then Kael turned away, motioning for her to follow. "We can't stay here. The shadows will regroup. There's a place we can rest, a sanctuary between realms."
As they walked deeper into the forest, Elara's thoughts spiraled.
She was no longer a secret mage hiding in a quiet village. She was something older. Something hunted.
And whatever lay ahead, she knew this:
The world would never see her the same way again.