He hesitated for a moment, glancing at her carefully. "Yes… for example, the Greater Will and the Frenzied Flame. They're also Outer Gods," he explained. But as the words left his mouth, he suddenly fell silent. The atmosphere shifted around them, growing heavier—almost oppressive.
Nyra's expression darkened, and for a long moment, the silence stretched between them. Finally, she spoke, her tone laced with a rare seriousness.
"I didn't expect it to be this serious," she said. "We have to find something to seal this fire of yours." Her voice betrayed a hint of anxiety.
Her words caught him off guard, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean? Nyra?"
She turned her gaze toward him, her sharp eyes piercing into his. "You're naive. If you knew this fire was tied to being from outside—why didn't you tell me before?"
He frowned. "What's the big deal? I can handle it."
Nyra's voice grew colder, more biting. "Those beings bring nothing but chaos and destruction. Take the Frenzied Flame as an example. Look at what happened to those who followed it—the madness, the ruin. If this Ghostflame originates from something similar, do you think it'll let you control it so easily?"
Her words hit him like a cold wind, and he couldn't immediately reply. "I'm not some mindless follower. I'm not bowing to any Outer God."
Nyra stepped closer, her expression unreadable. "That's what they all think at first," she said quietly. "But this is bigger than you realize. If you're going to keep this flame, then you need a safeguard—a way to stop it from consuming you, or worse, letting the entity behind it take hold."
He tilted his head, the flickering light of the Ghostflame reflecting in his eyes. "Do you know something I don't? You seem awfully familiar with this."
Nyra hesitated, her gaze flickering with something unreadable—fear, perhaps, or a memory she didn't want to recall. "I've seen what happens to those who dabble with powers beyond their understanding. Let's just say I'm not eager to watch history repeat itself."
He nodded slowly, his smirk fading. "Fine," he said. "If you think you can find a way to seal it without weakening me, then I'll listen."
She didn't respond immediately, instead watching him with concern. "You'd better not let it go to waste," she finally said. "Because if you lose control, I'll be the one to stop you and die with you."
"Aww, such a cute declaration," he teased, flashing her a lopsided grin. "But let's not be so dramatic. I have no intention of losing control. You'll see—I'll master this power."
Nyra's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest. "You think this is a joke?" she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "If this fire gets out of hand, it won't just consume you—it could consume everything around you. Do you even understand the stakes?"
His expression softened, the playfulness fading as he met her gaze. "I do," he said quietly. "But you have to trust me, Nyra. I'm not taking this lightly. I wouldn't risk it if I didn't think I could handle it."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue further. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Just promise me one thing," she said. "If things start to spiral, you'll let me help you—no matter what."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I promise."
For a while, they stood in silence, the flickering ghostfire casting eerie shadows across the ancient walls of the church. Finally, Nyra spoke again, her tone softer. "We should move."
"Agreed," he said, extinguishing the ghostflame in his hand with a flick of his fingers. The ethereal fire vanished, leaving the space colder and darker than before.
...
Nyra stood back, her arms crossed, her posture tense. "What are you doing now?" she asked.
The pale fire spread instantly, enveloping the urn, its eerie glow casting a spectral black and white hue over the area. The dragon heart ashes began to stir, swirling upward as if caught in a phantom wind, and a low, otherworldly hum filled the air.
A shape began to form within the fire—a great draconic figure, translucent and flickering like a mirage.
Its massive wings unfurled, trailing ethereal flames, and its serpentine neck arched as it let out a guttural, otherworldly roar that shook the walls of the church.
The spirit of Agheel stood before them, its once-mighty form now a hauntingly beautiful apparition.
He rose to his feet, staring at the spectral dragon with a mix of triumph and awe.
The bond was immediate—he could feel the creature's power resonating with his own, its spirit tethered to him by the ghostflame.
With a commanding gesture, the dragon lowered its head, a sign of submission.
Nyra's eyes widened, and she took an involuntary step back.
"You actually did it," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "You brought it back…"
"Completely under my control," he confirmed, his voice steady as he turned to her, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
"And this—" he gestured to the dragon, its glowing eyes locked onto Nyra—"is your mount, Miss Scary Knife."
"What?" Nyra blinked, caught off guard by his declaration. "You're giving me the dragon?"
"Of course," he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Think of it as a gesture of trust. Plus, you're the only one I know who's crazy enough to ride something like this into battle."
Nyra's lips parted, but no words came out at first. She glanced between him and the dragon, her usual sharp demeanor faltering. "I… You're serious?"
"Deadly serious," he replied, his tone softening. "You'll need something stronger than knives daggers to keep up with me. Besides, I think Agheel likes you."
The dragon snorted softly, a flicker of ghostflame escaping its spectral nostrils, and Nyra almost laughed despite herself.
"You're insufferable, you know that?" she said, shaking her head. "But fine. If this thing listens to me, I'll accept it. Just don't expect me to say thank you."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said with a grin, stepping back as Nyra cautiously approached the dragon. Its massive head lowered further, as if inviting her to touch it.
Her hand hovered for a moment before resting on the spectral scales.
A strange warmth spread through her fingers, and for the first time, her expression softened. "Guess we'll see if I'm crazy enough after all," she muttered, a small smile tugging at her lips.