The valley echoed with the clash of torches. Ashbound flame struck against Emberkin smoke, each movement sharper than the last. Kael drove them harder, his voice cutting through exhaustion.
"Again! Night will not wait for weakness. Flame and smoke must move as one."
The Emberkin's patience steadied the Ashbound's urgency. Where flame surged too fast, smoke shielded. Where smoke lingered too long, flame ignited. Slowly, their rhythm became seamless—a dance of endurance and hope.
Elira watched, her crown pulsing faintly. Though her body trembled, she felt strength returning—not only in herself, but in the alliance. "Together," she whispered, "we endure."