The wind howled across the scorched plains, carrying the scent of smoke and iron.
Axtin rode at the front of the king's vanguard, his black cloak billowing behind him. Beside him, Marley adjusted the straps of her armor, her eyes narrowed against the heat-haze rising from the cracked earth.
"The king says the boy carries the Lumen Key," Axtin said, his voice cold. "He also says to bring him back alive."
Marley smirked faintly. "Alive. He always says that. But fire has a way of deciding for itself."
The two rode in silence for a time, their horses' hooves kicking up ash. The land had turned gray and lifeless — trees reduced to pillars of charcoal, rivers to black glass.
"Heidra's flame spreads fast," Marley murmured. "If this keeps up, there'll be nothing left to rule."
Axtin didn't answer immediately. He had served Heidra for over fifteen years — through battles, assassinations, and the conquest of kingdoms. But lately, the king's eyes had begun to burn with something inhuman.
"Maybe ruling isn't what he wants anymore," Axtin said finally. "Maybe he wants to be the fire."
Marley turned to him sharply. "Careful, soldier. The walls of the world have ears."
He gave a grim smile. "Then let them listen."
---
By the third night, they found signs of pursuit.
Tracks in the sand. The remains of a small fire. A broken piece of cloth bearing the moon's insignia.
"They're close," Marley said.
Axtin crouched, touching the ashes. "Still warm. They can't be far."
He looked up at the dark ridge ahead. The moonlight glowed faintly against the stones, casting long shadows.
"We'll catch them before dawn."
---
Meanwhile, Adi and Siegel had taken refuge in a narrow canyon. The Lumen Key glowed faintly in his pack, its light beating like a pulse.
"We can't stop for long," Siegel whispered. "Your father's soldiers will find us."
Adi nodded. "I know. But we need rest — and a plan."
He sat beside the small fire and pulled the Key into his hands. The light illuminated his face, soft and blue.
"Erdriel said this can undo the curse," he said. "But she never told me how."
Siegel frowned. "Maybe it's not a weapon."
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated. "Maybe it's a truth. Something that changes what you believe, not just what you can fight."
Adi looked down at the Key. "Then maybe that's what he's afraid of."
---
They didn't notice the figures watching from the shadows above.
Axtin signaled for silence. The moonlight caught his blade, and Marley nodded. "The girl first," she mouthed.
But before they could strike, the Lumen Key pulsed — a wave of light sweeping through the canyon like a heartbeat.
The shadows around them hissed and scattered. Axtin staggered back, his sword trembling. "What in the gods' names—"
Siegel gasped and stood. "They're here!"
Adi turned, drawing his sword. "Axtin. Marley. My father's most loyal killers."
Axtin's eyes narrowed. "You've grown, boy."
"And you've fallen," Adi said.
Marley smirked. "Bold words for a prince hiding behind a girl and a glowing rock."
Siegel stepped forward, her voice steady. "Leave now. The Key is not yours to take."
Marley laughed. "Everything in this land belongs to the fire. Even you."
---
Steel clashed.
Adi parried Axtin's first strike — sparks flying. The man was faster, stronger, and trained to kill. Every blow forced Adi backward.
Marley lunged toward Siegel, her twin daggers flashing like lightning. Siegel dodged, then uncorked the moonwater and hurled it in a wide arc. The silver liquid struck Marley's armor, sizzling on contact.
Marley screamed as steam rose from her arms. "Witch's trick!" she spat.
"It's called mercy," Siegel said, ducking another strike.
Axtin caught Adi's blade in a lock, their faces inches apart. "Your father raised me to make you strong," he hissed. "Now prove you learned something."
Adi broke the lock and swung low, slicing Axtin's leg. The older man stumbled.
Siegel shouted, "Adi! The Key!"
He grabbed it, holding it between his palms. The light flared brighter — blinding, pure.
Axtin and Marley shielded their eyes. The ground trembled.
Then the light exploded outward.
When it faded, the canyon was silent. The air smelled of ozone and moonlight. Marley lay unconscious. Axtin knelt, breathing hard, his sword buried in the sand.
Adi lowered the Key, its glow dimming once more. "You don't have to die for him," he said.
Axtin looked up — pain and conflict in his eyes. "You think it's that simple?"
"I think it has to be," Adi replied quietly.
Axtin's gaze lingered on the prince, then on the faint silver light still shimmering around Siegel. For a moment, something in him softened — the soldier beneath the fire remembering who he once was.
He pushed himself up slowly. "Go. Before I change my mind."
Siegel frowned. "You're letting us go?"
Axtin didn't meet her eyes. "I served one king too long. Maybe it's time I stopped burning for him."
He turned, hoisting Marley over his shoulder.
"Tell your father," Adi said softly, "that the fire has met its match."
Axtin gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "You think he doesn't already know?"
And then he vanished into the darkness, leaving only the scent of smoke behind.
---
As dawn broke, Adi and Siegel climbed the ridge overlooking the horizon.
Below them, the wastelands glowed faintly red — the mark of Heidra's spreading power.
"What now?" Siegel asked.
Adi looked north, determination hardening his face. "We keep moving. Erdriel said the Key must be taken to the moon's altar. It's the only place strong enough to break the curse."
Siegel nodded. "Then we'll get there — together."
But even as she spoke, both felt it: a shiver through the air, faint but unmistakable.
Far away, in the Citadel, Heidra had felt Axtin's betrayal.
The king stood before the Orb of Fire, his expression unreadable.
"Loyalty," he said softly. "Such a fragile thing."
He raised his hand, and fire burst from his palm — a mirror of Axtin's face flickering briefly within the flames before vanishing in smoke.
"Run if you must, my son," Heidra whispered. "The fire walks behind you."
And as the Orb pulsed brighter, cracks began to form in the very walls of the Citadel — as if even the stones feared what was coming next.