The battlefield lay in ruin. Shadows twisted and writhed, forming a river of darkness across the Wyrdlands. Kaelis and Selara, though battered, stood side by side, their aura flaring with defiance.
But Maelor remained calm atop the hill, his crimson eyes fixed on them. "You cling to each other," he said, voice cutting like a blade. "But bonds are fragile. Doubt is stronger than love."
Kaelis gritted his teeth. "We don't doubt. Not each other."
Selara's light intertwined with his, reinforcing their barrier. Yet the shadows pressed closer, and even their combined strength began to waver.
From the edge of the battlefield, Nyros stepped forward, staff glowing brighter than before. But something in their posture was tense, unreadable. Kaelis noticed it immediately.
"Nyros?" Kaelis called. "What are you—"
Nyros raised a hand, halting him. "There is something you need to know. Something I have hidden from you."
Selara furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"
Nyros's voice was solemn. "I am not merely your guide. I was once a warden of the prophecy, bound to the shard itself. The Trials of Ashara were designed to test your bond… yes, but also to prepare you for the truth about Maelor."
Kaelis's heart skipped. "Truth?"
Nyros nodded. "Maelor was not always consumed by darkness. He was a warden like me—assigned to guard the realms from corruption. But ambition poisoned him. He sought to wield the curse, not destroy it. And in doing so, he bound a fragment of his soul to it… which is why it hunts Selara's bloodline."
Selara's eyes widened. "So the curse… is part of him?"
Nyros's gaze was grave. "Yes. And if he is not stopped, he will consume the bond you have fought so hard to protect. Worse… he may turn it against the world."
Kaelis clenched his fists. "Then we stop him. Now."
Nyros's eyes flickered with something Kaelis couldn't read—sadness, warning, perhaps regret. "I will help you. But understand this: the final confrontation will demand more than strength. It will demand sacrifice—the kind no Trial could fully teach you."
Maelor's laugh echoed across the battlefield, cutting through Nyros's words. "So the little lovers know the truth at last. Does it make you braver, or just terrified?"
Kaelis stepped forward, aura blazing. "We're not afraid. Not together."
Selara's hand squeezed his. "We'll end this. For us… and for everyone else."
Nyros lifted the staff, sending a pulse of energy that pushed back the shadows, clearing a path to Maelor. "Then follow me. The last battle begins. But beware… not all shadows are his alone."
Kaelis and Selara exchanged a determined glance. The battlefield stretched before them, chaos at every turn, yet their bond pulsed brighter than the encroaching darkness.
Above the Wyrdlands, storm clouds swirled, as if the world itself braced for the reckoning.
The final confrontation—the one that would decide not only their fate, but the fate of every soul touched by Maelor's curse—was about to begin.