The battle raged across the crumbling bridge.
Mira darted among the soldiers, her dagger flashing, striking at weak points in their armor. Edran's staff cracked with thunder, bolts of lightning knocking men from their feet.
Aric's fire burst forth in waves, setting the stone ablaze, forcing the soldiers back. Yet each time he struck, the flames grew wilder, hungrier, clawing at him as much as his enemies.
The scarred knight pressed forward, blade glowing with runes. "You cannot fight what you are, boy. The Crown will eat you alive."
With a roar, Aric unleashed a torrent of fire that shattered the bridge beneath them. The soldiers tumbled into the river below, their screams lost to the current.
When the flames died, only scorched stone remained. Aric fell to his knees, trembling. Mira knelt beside him, eyes wide with fear—not of the soldiers, but of him.