The ridge was a crown of stone jutting from the marsh, a meager fortress against the tide of enemies. Mist curled around its base, carrying the stink of mud and blood. Torches flared below, casting monstrous shadows against the rock.
Kaelen stood braced, sword dripping, his breath harsh. His wound pulled at him, each motion threatening collapse, yet his stance remained unbroken—a lone shield before Elira.
Elira's palms still glowed faintly, sparks tracing her trembling fingers. She could feel it—heat swelling beneath her ribs, a pressure desperate to burst free. Her heart pounded in time with the fire's pulse.
"Stay behind me," Kaelen muttered, eyes locked on the advancing mercenaries.
"I can help," she whispered, voice thin.
He spared her a glance, sweat streaking his brow. "Not at the cost of yourself."
But it was too late for restraint. The fire was alive inside her, a beast clawing for release.
---
**POV: Ravik**
From below, Ravik's grin stretched wide. The prince was faltering. The girl was trembling, though her hands burned with a witch's gift.
"Do you see it?" he said to his men. "She cannot master it. Fear will consume her quicker than flame."
His lieutenant raised his crossbow, but Ravik's hand shot out. "Not yet. Let her burn. Let her show us what she truly is."
He wanted the moment when fear twisted her. When fire scorched friend as well as foe. That moment was worth more than gold—it was power.
---
**The clash intensifies**
Mercenaries surged up the ridge, steel glinting. Kaelen met them head-on. His blade parried one strike, then slid across another's chest. He moved with desperate precision, but every step jarred his wound.
Elira's breath quickened. A man lunged past Kaelen, dagger raised toward her. Instinct flared. She thrust out her hand—
A jet of fire roared forth, striking the attacker full in the chest. His scream split the mist as he toppled back, cloak aflame.
The flames spread too far, licking across the ridge stones. Elira gasped, pulling back, but the fire did not cease immediately. It clawed outward, uncontrolled, before sputtering as if mocking her.
Kaelen caught her wrist. His grip was firm, grounding. "Breathe," he commanded. "Don't let it rule you."
She wanted to obey. But she felt the fire still there, alive and hungry.
---
**POV: Harl, the young mercenary**
Harl froze at the sight of the girl's fire. It wasn't just flame—it was wild, alive, unnatural.
His bow shook in his hands. He thought of his sister again, but his heart pounded too fast. Could he fire at her? Could anyone?
He saw the prince cut down another man, his blade a streak of silver. He saw Ravik watching with that cruel hunger.
And for the first time, Harl wondered if he had chosen the wrong side.
---
**Back on the ridge**
The mercenaries pressed harder. Kaelen staggered, knees buckling. Elira rushed forward, catching his arm.
"We can't hold them!" she cried.
His jaw clenched. "We don't yield."
A cry rose from below—the boy Corin, lantern high, had stumbled onto the scene. His face was pale with terror, but his voice rang out: "Leave them alone!"
The shout startled several mercenaries. Ravik's head snapped toward the sound, fury flashing. "Catch him!"
Two men broke off, rushing for the boy.
Elira's stomach dropped. "No!"
Without thinking, she unleashed the fire again, a wave of heat sweeping down the ridge. The mercenaries fell back, shields raised against the sudden blaze. Corin scrambled into the shadows, escaping their grasp.
But Elira collapsed to her knees, breath ragged. The fire had drained her, leaving her trembling and weak.
Kaelen knelt beside her, sword still raised. "You must stop, Elira. It will consume you."
"I can't," she whispered. "It's stronger than me."
---
**The unexpected ally**
A horn sounded in the mist—a deep, resonant call that made the marsh tremble. Ravik stiffened, eyes narrowing.
From the east, figures emerged: cloaked riders bearing spears tipped with silver. Their horses splashed through the marsh with disciplined precision. Torches flared, revealing the crest upon their cloaks—**the falcon of the Luminous Order**.
Kaelen's eyes widened. Relief and dread mingled in his expression. "The Order…"
The mercenaries faltered, uncertain. Ravik cursed under his breath, signaling retreat.
But it was too late. The riders charged, spears piercing through the mist. Mercenaries scattered, some cut down where they stood.
Ravik hissed, grabbing his lieutenant. "Fall back! The girl isn't worth dying for—not tonight!"
With practiced efficiency, his band melted into the mist, vanishing as swiftly as they had come.
---
**Aftermath on the ridge**
Elira leaned against the stone, chest heaving. The fire had receded, leaving her hollow, shivering despite the lingering heat.
Kaelen supported her, his face pale but resolute. His eyes never left the approaching riders.
One dismounted, removing his helm. He was a man of middle years, with sharp eyes and a voice like iron.
"Prince Kaelen," he said. "By order of the Luminous Council, you are to come with us."
Elira stiffened. The title hung in the air like a blade.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. His hand instinctively shifted closer to his sword. "And if I refuse?"
The man's gaze flicked to Elira, lingering on her trembling hands, the faint scorch marks on the stone. "Then we take you both. The Council has questions about fire that walks in mortal veins."
Elira's breath caught. Questions—or chains?
The mist swirled around them, the ridge still glowing faintly from her fire. And in that moment, Elira realized their flight was far from over.
It had only just begun.