My flames eagerly licked at the divine energy, as if starving for fuel. I had once needed conduits—gunpowder, for instance—to unleash this power. Not anymore. I didn't need crutches. I was free.
"This isn't you, Ignis," Aria shouted, her voice struggling to rise above the deafening roar of our clashing powers.
Her words irritated me. Who was she to decide who I was? She had no right.
"What do you know about who I am?" My voice thundered, deep and dripping with disdain, my gaze blazing like the flames that surrounded me.
The intensity in her eyes unsettled me. Her tears fell like rivers, but her expression betrayed no sadness. Instead, there was a ferocity that pierced through my arrogance, if only for a moment.
"Of course, I know who you are, Ignis. I'm your companion," Aria said with a firmness that cut through the layers of fire and pride encasing me.
For a moment, I froze. I saw her—not just her figure bathed in light, but her. Her furrowed brow, the peculiar habit of biting her lip, her disheveled purple hair that was somehow still beautiful. Her tears traced paths down her round cheeks, giving her a touch of innocence. I noticed the wound on her leg, surrounded by dried blood, and how she leaned on the other to bear her weight.
Something within me faltered, buried beneath layers of power and arrogance.
"No... this is wrong." The words escaped my lips in a reluctant whisper.
The power still coursed through my veins—unstoppable, intoxicating. My heart pounded fiercely, and everything around me seemed crystalline, as though I had lived my whole life underwater and now, finally, I could breathe. But something was off, like a forgotten dream stirring upon waking.
"You are Ignis Vitae, independent priest of Exodus, apprentice of the arcane teachings of the Church, and sacred defender of the Saint of Wisdom." Her voice shattered the silence, precisely describing what I once was—what some part of me still knew to be true.
But it wasn't those words that struck me. It was her final statement:
"And most importantly, you are my friend."
Those words hit me like a hammer to the chest. Aria smiled despite the tears still falling. Her light wasn't just a weapon—it was a beacon, a reminder of what I had forgotten.
The air around me grew heavy; the flames sputtered as if uncertain, and something inside me began to crack.
"Friend..." I repeated the word as if it were foreign, as if I had forgotten its meaning.
The echo of that word brought buried memories with it. Aria fighting by my side. Her laughter during our trivial arguments. The look of trust in her eyes when we believed in something greater than ourselves.
The flames around me started to wane.
"Aria..." My voice, for the first time, carried no disdain or arrogance. It was weak, broken.
She took a step forward despite her wound, her divine light intensifying with every movement.
"Ignis, listen. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to remind you of who you are, to bring you back." She extended her hand toward me, and in that gesture, there was no hatred—only hope.
The crack within me widened. I fell to my knees, feeling the weight of what I had done, of what I had nearly lost. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I believed her words.
But then, a child's laughter invaded my mind.
"Do you think you can escape me so easily, Ignis?"
My eyes shot open. I knew that voice—a boy's voice that should have been buried in my memory. Aria's light suddenly seemed farther away than ever.
"No..." I muttered, clutching my head as a sharp pain tore through my skull. "Not again..."
"It was always me, Ignis. You were just the vessel."
The voice was unmistakable. Nox. Laplace.
"No!" I screamed, but my own voice resonated in the chamber as an amalgamation of tones—one mine, desperate, and another cold, calculating.
Aria instinctively stepped back but didn't lower her guard.
"Ignis, fight! Don't let him control you!" she pleaded, her light growing even brighter, as if trying to shield me from the return of that dark presence.
"Control me?" My voice now carried a cruel cadence, mocking and authoritative. "Is that what you think, Aria? There is no control. I am Laplace."
My flames erupted, scattering ash into the air as I rose, my smile twisted and menacing.
"For a moment, you almost convinced me. Such sweet naivety, Aria. But now you've reminded me of something important." My gaze pierced her, cruel and merciless. "Hope is a weakness. And you are full of it."
Aria stepped back, her face a mix of horror and determination.
"No matter how many times you try, Laplace," she replied, her voice filled with defiance, "I won't give up on you."
My flames surged again, fueled by the pure hatred now blazing within me.
"On me?" I laughed cruelly. "You don't understand, Aria. I don't need you to give up. I only need you to disappear."
The chamber filled once more with the storm of our clashing energies, but this time, with Laplace in control, my power knew no bounds.