They stumbled into the outer halls, choking on dust and silence.
Aric fell to his knees, clutching the broken staff. His chest felt hollow, colder than any flame.
"He stayed behind," Mira whispered, voice breaking. "He gave us a chance."
Aric's fire seethed with grief and rage, begging to be unleashed. He wanted to burn the city, the Serpent, the world itself.
Mira knelt before him, grabbing his face. "Don't you dare lose yourself now. If you give in, his death means nothing."
Through blurred vision, Aric saw her eyes—not fearful, not condemning, but full of stubborn faith.
He clenched the staff until it cut his palms. "Then we end this. Tonight."