Kaelen POV
Kaelen did not allow himself another heartbeat of hesitation. The weight of his oath bore down upon his shoulders like a mantle of stone, heavier than the armor he wore, heavier than the sword in his grip. He surged forward, blade a streak of silver in the fractured light, his body moving as it had been drilled to since childhood—clean, precise, merciless.
Steel met shadow. The boy's dagger screamed against his longsword, sparks bursting in an arc of black and gold. Elian staggered, his arms trembling, his footing poor, but he did not fall. He caught Kaelen's strike as though desperation alone lent him strength, his teeth clenched, eyes wide with terror.
Kaelen pressed harder, muscles straining, fury and conviction lending him speed. He would break the boy's guard, carve through the corruption before it spread further. His oath demanded it.
And yet, with every strike, the whispers slid deeper into his mind.
Yes. End him. Kill the vessel. Cut out the weakness before it infects you too.
Kaelen gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. "Silence," he snarled aloud, voice guttural, as if the void could be cowed by his command.
But it lingered, patient, insidious.
Elian POV
The force of the knight's blows rattled through Elian's bones, each strike threatening to tear the dagger from his grasp. His arms screamed with exhaustion, his lungs burned with ragged breath. He had no stance, no training to match the knight's disciplined precision. He was an archivist, not a warrior. Every moment he stayed standing felt like borrowed time.
Yet he could not let go. The dagger pulsed in his hand, its smoke curling up his arm, cold and numbing. It whispered to him too, though differently than it whispered to Kaelen.
Let me carry the weight. Let me cut him down. Surrender, and I will save you.
Elian shook his head violently, choking back a cry. He would not give in. He had seen what the void did to those who surrendered. He remembered the hollow-eyed husks in the city's underbelly, beggars whose souls had been eaten away by shadow. He would not become that.
Kaelen's blade came down again, nearly splitting the dagger from his grasp. His knees buckled, stone cracking beneath him.
"Stop!" Elian gasped, voice breaking. "I don't want this—I never wanted any of this!"
But the knight's eyes held no mercy. Only fire and oath.
Lyra OOV
Lyra staggered back into the fray, clutching her ribs where the knight's armored strike had nearly broken her. Pain lit her side with every breath, but she forced her body forward anyway. Pain was nothing new. Pain was survival.
She caught the rhythm of the fight in a heartbeat—the boy barely holding on, Kaelen's strikes merciless, the dagger keening with shadow. The knight's precision was overwhelming, but even the strongest walls could be cracked if you struck hard enough at the right angle.
With a snarl, she lunged. Her saber flashed in a blur of steel, aiming for the gap in Kaelen's guard.
The knight pivoted smoothly, catching her strike with the flat of his blade. His riposte was immediate, brutal, forcing her back step by step. Lyra's arms ached, but she met him blow for blow, her teeth bared in defiance.
"You self-righteous bastard!" she spat, her voice rough with rage. "You don't even see him—you only see the void. He's still in there fighting!"
Kaelen's eyes flicked toward her, his expression carved from stone. "Fighting is not enough."
His blade crashed down, sparks flying.
Kaelen POV
The pirate's interference was infuriating. She fought like a cornered animal—sloppy but relentless. Her strikes carried no grace, no honor, but her fury lent them weight. She forced him to divide his attention, to measure his blows more carefully than he wished.
And still the boy stood.
Kaelen's rage flared hotter. Why would he not fall? Why did the shadow not consume him outright? The longer the fight stretched, the more doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve.
Because he is strong, the whispers suggested slyly. Because he was chosen, and you were not.
"No," Kaelen growled, driving the thought away with another punishing strike. His blade carved sparks from the boy's dagger, the force pushing Elian back across the broken stones. "The stars do not choose corruption."
But his certainty rang hollow in his chest.
Elian POV
His body was failing. Every muscle screamed, his lungs dragged in air like water through a broken reed. His arms felt numb, the dagger burning cold in his hand, but he could not drop it—not with Kaelen's sword poised to cut him down.
Fear warred with something darker inside him. He felt it coiling, rising, a tide that promised strength if he just let go. His vision blurred at the edges, black creeping in like spilled ink.
Let me guide your hand. I will show you how to end him. He bleeds like any other.
Elian's knees nearly buckled. He saw Kaelen's blade rising for another strike, saw Lyra darting in from the side, desperate to deflect it. For a heartbeat, he almost surrendered.
But Lyra's voice cut through the roar in his head.
"Don't you dare give in, boy! You're stronger than it!"
Her words tethered him. Barely. But it was enough.
Lyra POV
She saw Elian faltering, the shadows licking up his arm, his knees trembling. Rage and fear surged through her in equal measure. She would not let him fall—to the knight, to the void, to anything.
"Move!" she shouted, lunging forward. Her blade met Kaelen's with a jarring clang, forcing the knight's strike wide before it could cleave into Elian. The impact rattled her bones, sent a spike of agony through her ribs, but she did not falter.
Kaelen's eyes locked onto hers, golden fury burning. "Stand aside, pirate."
"Not a chance," she spat back, teeth bared. "If you want him, you'll have to cut through me first."
The knight's jaw tightened. "So be it."
He surged forward again, his strikes faster now, angrier. Lyra parried, dodged, twisted, her movements reckless but fueled by sheer defiance. Sparks rained as steel clashed in the ruins, the sound echoing like war drums.
And still Elian stood, caught between them, dagger trembling in his grasp, the void whispering, coaxing, tempting.
Kaelen POV
The fight spiraled. The pirate would not yield, the boy would not fall, and the whispers pressed harder, feeding on his frustration.
Why do you hesitate? Why do you resist? Kill them both and be done. Free yourself of doubt.
Kaelen roared, slamming his blade against Elian's dagger once more, sparks spraying. His muscles burned, his blood pounded in his ears. He had fought countless battles, but none left him feeling so unmoored.
Every strike he made, every word he spoke, felt less like justice and more like desperation.
And he hated it.
The ruins trembled around them, dust sifting from the cracked ceiling. Shadows pooled thicker along the walls, drawn to the clash of steel and void. The fight raged on, unbroken, unrelenting—three wills colliding in the heart of a dead temple, none willing to yield.
And above it all, the stars flickered, dimming as though they too waited to see who would break first.