The fire cracked in Eira's palms, searing the space between her and the dark wave that rushed at them. Her vision blurred with heat and smoke. The ground shook beneath her boots, and the screams of villagers and warriors alike mingled in a storm of chaos.
Harrower's soldiers moved like shadows. Fast. Brutal. Their blades hummed with cursed magic, cutting through wood, flesh, anything that stood in their way.
Torin fought like a man who had nothing left to lose. Blood soaked his side, but he didn't falter. Every strike he made was clean and full of purpose. His blade locked with a Veil soldier's, and he pushed forward with a roar, slamming the man to the ground.
Kaela was beside him, back to back. Her hair had come loose, strands whipping around her face as she slashed at anything that came near. Her jaw was tight, eyes set. Eira could see the pain in her face, the grief she never spoke of but it only made her strikes harder, sharper.
Lena's fire lit up the square. Her flames moved like they knew where to go, finding hounds and shadowed things and turning them to ash. But it was more than power. Her face was streaked with soot and tears, her lips whispering something again and again. A name.
Eira stood with her, hands raised, light bursting from her chest like a star breaking open. But her arms were trembling now. The more power she called, the heavier it felt.
She glanced at Thorne. He moved without hesitation, blades glinting red and gold as he cut through the Veil's line. His coat was torn, his cheek bloodied, but he never looked away from her too long. He was watching her even while he fought, like he was waiting for something.
Maybe he was. Maybe they all were.
A scream tore through the square. A woman fell, clutching her leg, and a wraith hound leapt for her. Eira didn't think. She pushed her hands forward and shouted, and a wall of golden fire burst between them. The hound vanished in the light, leaving only smoke behind.
"Keep going!" Kaela yelled, slashing another shadow down.
But the Veil didn't stop.
Harrower moved slowly through the chaos, untouched by the battle. His pale steed stepped over bodies, unbothered. He watched Eira like a man watching a spark about to catch fire.
He raised his curved blade and pointed it at her.
"Your mother stood here too," he said, loud enough for them all to hear. "She stood. She burned. And so will you."
Something inside Eira cracked.
She saw flashes again, her mother's face, the flames, the sound of her own crying. But this time, she didn't look away. She let the memory stay.
"I'm not her," Eira said. Her voice shook, but she kept speaking. "I'm still standing."
Harrower laughed.
"Not for long."
He raised his hand, and the shadows behind him thickened. The air twisted with dark magic. Eira could feel it in her bones, crawling through her blood.
The Veil's magic was heavier now. Angrier. It pushed against her light, trying to snuff it out.
Eira stumbled back. Her glow dimmed. Her knees hit the ground.
She heard someone call her name. Thorne? Lena but the world was already tilting. The light inside her was fading.
And then she felt it.
A hand on her shoulder. Warm. Steady.
Thorne knelt beside her, his breath ragged. "You don't have to do it alone."
Eira blinked at him.
"I don't know if I can stop him," she said quietly.
"You don't have to stop him," Thorne replied. "You just have to hold the line."
Behind him, Lena stepped forward, her flames circling her like a shield. Torin and Kaela moved to cover the sides. The villagers, broken and afraid, still held stones, tools, anything they could find. None of them ran.
Eira closed her eyes. The light inside her stirred again, soft at first. Then stronger. Not because she forced it but because she let it rise.
She stood.
She raised her hands.
Golden fire met black magic again, the clash sending shockwaves through the trees. The Veil screamed as the light tore through them, and the Harrower was forced to step back, shielding himself from the blast.
Eira stood at the center of it all, her friends around her, her power rising. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't easy. But it was real.
And for the first time, Harrower didn't smile.