Embers of the Forgotten Realm

The wind cut through the Emberfall Divide like a blade, carrying ash and the faint metallic tang of old battles. Lyra's boots crunched over the broken cobblestones as she followed Kael through the ruins of the plaza. Her heart still hammered from the fire incident last night, each spark of residual magic in her fingers a reminder that she was dangerously unprepared.

Kael moved effortlessly through the debris, eyes scanning the shadows as though he could already see the danger lurking within them. Lyra struggled to keep pace, her mind racing faster than her legs.

"Why do you always look so calm?" she demanded, sidestepping a toppled column. "Do you even realize what's coming?"

Kael glanced over his shoulder, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "Do I look calm? Terrified, more like. Terrified that someone might actually survive Garn's visit without me."

Lyra's scowl deepened, but before she could retort, a low, vibrating hum rose in the air, making her stomach twist. The very atmosphere seemed to thrum with energy, and the faint tang of ozone made her skin prickle.

"Feel that?" Kael murmured, eyes narrowing. "That's Garn. Closer than either of us thought."

Lyra's fingers twitched, sparks threatening to flare uncontrollably. She gripped the sleeve of her cloak, trying to steady herself. "Then... we need a plan."

Kael laughed softly, the sound echoing off the crumbling walls. "Plans are for people who think they have a choice. We don't. Survive. That's the plan."

A shadow shifted in the far corner of the plaza, unnatural and fluid, like ink spilled across stone. Lyra froze. Magic, powerful and dark, radiated from it in waves.

"He's here," she whispered, every nerve screaming.

Kael's eyes darkened. "Exactly. And if we don't move, that shadow will consume everything in its path—including us."

Before Lyra could ask how they were supposed to escape, Kael flicked his wrist, and a ribbon of flame sprang from his palm, illuminating the path ahead. "Follow me. And don't get in my way."

They darted down narrow alleys, the hum of Garn's magic growing louder, vibrating in their bones. Lyra's own magic, untrained and volatile, burned at her fingertips. She wanted to shove it down, to make it obey her—but the danger was too immediate.

"You're... fast," Lyra panted, trying to match Kael's stride.

He smirked over his shoulder. "Not fast enough to impress me. But maybe fast enough to keep you alive."

A sudden screech echoed through the ruins, and the shadow surged forward, dark tendrils writhing like living smoke. Lyra's stomach lurched, but Kael didn't falter. He spun in place, flames spiraling from his hands to meet the shadow, holding it back just long enough for them to slip past.

"Careful!" Lyra shouted, sending a small burst of fire to divert another tendril. The effort left her dizzy, but alive.

Kael's grin widened. "See? Chaos suits you. And lucky for both of us, we make a good team... for now."

Lyra shot him a glare that could have burned through steel. "Don't get used to it."

He laughed, the sound carrying over the echoing ruins. But deep in the shadows, Garn's presence lingered, a dark promise that the real battle had only just begun.