Varen's breath hitched as Lucavion's words cut through the chaotic storm of flames around them.
"Fire may be safe when controlled," Lucavion said, his voice steady yet laced with that maddening edge of irreverence. "But that's not what fire is for."
Something shifted.
Varen felt it—not just the oppressive weight of Lucavion's black flames, but something deeper, more insidious. It was as though the chaotic tendrils of those flames had reached past the heat of battle, bypassing his defenses, and curled around the thoughts he had buried for so long.
'What is this?' he wondered, his grip tightening around his greatsword. He had always been sure of his path, of the discipline instilled in him by the Silver Flame Sect. Control was his strength. Control was his shield.
And yet, as he faced Lucavion, the embodiment of chaos, doubt crept into his mind.
