The Hollow King raised his claw, and the world fell silent.
Time itself seemed to hold its breath. The shadows writhed behind him, restless, eager. Mara stood her ground, her heartbeat echoing in her ears, louder than the wind, louder than fear.
The ember in her chest pulsed with heat—but it didn't burn her. It steadied her.
The Hollow King stepped forward.
He was colossal. Smoke clung to him like armor, and beneath it, his body glowed with a dying red, like coal about to go cold—or reignite. His face was hidden beneath a crown of fused bone and ash, his eyes twin voids of smothered flame.
"You wear the Heart," he said. His voice was a rumble from beneath the earth. "And yet… you are not worthy."
Mara felt the fire flare inside her. "I didn't take it," she answered. "It chose me."
The King laughed—a sound that made the very ash tremble. "It chooses no one. It consumes. As I will."
He swept his hand forward.
The shadows surged.
Talon was beside her in an instant, blade drawn, eyes locked on the enemy. The Ashborn woman stood to her other side, her own flame rising from her fingertips.
"Don't let the fire control you," the Ashborn warned. "Command it."
Mara focused. She reached inward—not toward rage, but toward memory.
She saw her mother's face. The way she smiled, even through the fire. The strength in her voice when she whispered, "North."
The ember roared to life.
A wave of flame erupted around Mara, spinning outward like a shield. The shadow creatures shrieked and fell back, burning. The Hollow King snarled and raised both arms, forming a spear of darkness that hurled toward her.
She caught it midair.
The flame around her hand wrapped around the darkness and consumed it, turning it to light.
Talon stared. "Gods…"
Mara's feet left the ground.
Not flying—rising.
The Heart in her chest blazed, brighter than the sky. Fire danced through her veins, not wild but controlled.
She looked down at the Hollow King.
"This world has burned long enough," she said. "I won't let it end in shadow."
And she released the fire.
A pillar of golden flame exploded from her hands, pure and furious, striking the King and the land behind him. Shadows fled. The sky lit up. For a moment, it looked like dawn.
When the light faded, the Hollow King remained—but his crown was cracked, and his smoke-thin armor torn.
He bled light.
He staggered.
And then… he smiled.
"You are fire," he said softly. "But so was I."
He vanished in a storm of shadow.
The Ashborn ran forward. "He's not gone. Only scattered."
Mara sank to her knees, drained. Her hands shook, but she was still whole.
Talon caught her. "What did you just become?"
Mara looked up at the still-burning sky.
"Something new."
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