Amberine's heart pounded as she took in the full scope of what she was about to do. Her breaths were shallow, her chest tightening as the cloaked man's words echoed in her ears, his taunts drilling into her mind. Her hands clenched, and she felt the warmth of Ifrit deep within her, the fire spirit that had always been there—a part of her, and yet something far more. She had never fully summoned him, never let go of all her fear and hesitation. But now, she had no choice. She had to do this—for her father, for herself, for Maris.
"Ifrit," Amberine whispered, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The heat within her responded, intensifying, and she could feel Ifrit's presence grow stronger. It wasn't just warmth—it was an inferno, a surge of power that rose from within her core, filling her with strength, with fire, with rage. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to synchronize fully with the fire spirit, feeling the boundaries between herself and Ifrit blur.
