The world outside the temple seemed almost unreal, as if it existed in a dream. The calm was unsettling. After the storm of energy that had erupted from the crystal, everything had gone still. The wind had picked up again, but it was a dry wind, one that carried the scent of something ancient, something not meant to be disturbed. The trees whispered in an unintelligible language, their branches twisting like gnarled fingers.
Lysara stood before Reazeal, her eyes scanning his features. His return had not been the simple victory she had hoped for. There was something different about him now—something not entirely human. The way his eyes burned with an inner fire, how his presence seemed to distort the air around him, it was as if he carried the weight of the worlds themselves.
"Reazeal…" Her voice faltered for a moment. She had feared he might be lost forever, but now that he was here, she didn't know what to make of it. He looked at her, his gaze distant, as if something far beyond her was calling to him.
"Lysara," he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost unrecognizable. He took a step toward her, and she flinched instinctively. The air between them seemed charged, as though any movement would set off an explosion. "I'm here. But… I'm not the same."
She took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?" Her breath caught in her throat.
Reazeal's eyes darkened as if he were trying to hold something inside, a force struggling to break free. He clenched his fists, the veins on his arms bulging as if his very body was rejecting the power that surged within him.
"It's not just the Flame," he said slowly. "It's… everything. What I did… the price I paid to return—it's not something I can control. It's already starting to change me."
Lysara's heart skipped. "No," she said quickly. "You're still you, Reazeal. You're still the one who—"
"Who saved the world?" He cut her off, his voice sharp. "Who sacrificed everything to come back to life? Yes, I did. But in doing so, I became something… else."
The air between them trembled with the weight of his words. Lysara reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. "We can figure this out. We'll find a way. We've always figured it out together."
Reazeal closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. "I wish it were that simple," he whispered. "But something is stirring inside me. It's like the abyss itself is calling, pulling me toward something I can't escape. I—I don't know how much longer I can hold on."
Her heart clenched at his words, but before she could speak, the ground beneath their feet shook violently. The sky above darkened, the clouds swirling into a vortex as if some unseen hand was tearing at the fabric of the world itself.
Lysara staggered backward, her breath catching. "What's happening?" she shouted over the growing roar of the storm.
A voice, distorted and haunting, rose above the chaos. "The Flame has been rekindled," it said, echoing through the air like the voice of the very earth itself. "And so begins the reckoning."
The ground cracked open beneath their feet, a rift tearing through the earth, and from within emerged dark tendrils of energy, twisting and writhing like serpents. The wind howled, carrying the scent of decay, and the sky above began to bleed with unnatural colors.
Reazeal's eyes burned brighter, the strange energy within him surging to the surface. "Lysara, get back!" he shouted, pushing her away as the tendrils of darkness reached out toward them.
But it was too late. The tendrils wrapped around Reazeal, binding him in a suffocating grip. He gasped as the dark power coursed through him, and a scream tore from his throat as if the very essence of his being was being torn apart.
"Reazeal!" Lysara screamed, rushing toward him. But the tendrils snapped toward her, forcing her to the ground. The pressure in the air was unbearable, and the world seemed to tilt, everything swirling into an abyss of darkness.
"Why… why now?" Reazeal gasped, his voice breaking as he struggled against the tendrils. His body trembled, the power inside him roaring as if it were alive. "I can't control it… It's too much…"
Lysara reached out, her hand brushing against his. "Reazeal, you have to fight it! We can't let it take you."
But as she touched him, she felt a jolt of energy surge through her. Her mind exploded with visions—visions of a faraway place, a realm beyond their understanding. She saw an immense figure, its face obscured by shadows, standing at the edge of an endless void. The figure raised its hand, and she felt the cold, infinite pull of the abyss.
"The Veil has been torn," the voice echoed in her mind, the same voice that had warned her in the temple. "The Flame is not a gift, but a curse. And now, you will witness the unraveling."
The vision faded, and Lysara gasped, her body trembling as if she had been pulled into another world and thrown back. She stared at Reazeal, his body wracked with pain as the tendrils of darkness seemed to devour him whole.
"No," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "No, we're not losing you again. I won't let it happen."
The ground trembled beneath them, and the skies above cracked open, revealing the vast expanse of the cosmos. The stars burned with a cruel intensity, like the eyes of ancient gods watching their every move.
The world was unraveling. And with it, everything Reazeal and Lysara had fought for.
---
Back in the heart of the ruined city, a new presence stirred. Hidden in the shadows, the figure watched the unfolding chaos with cold, calculating eyes. Their hand gripped a blackened crystal, the source of the dark energy that now consumed Reazeal.
"Soon," the figure whispered, their voice a hiss of venom. "Soon, all will be as it was meant to be."
---
Lysara's pulse raced as she fought to maintain her grip on Reazeal's hand. The tendrils of darkness squeezed tighter, dragging him deeper into the abyss. She couldn't lose him—not like this.
"Please, Reazeal," she begged, her voice breaking. "Fight it! You're stronger than this. You are the Flame."
For a brief moment, his eyes met hers, a flicker of recognition flashing in his gaze. Then, something within him shifted. The darkness that had consumed him seemed to waver, and he gasped, his body shuddering as if some internal battle was being waged.
"I… I can't… I…" His voice trailed off into a grunt of pain, and for a moment, it seemed as though all hope was lost.
But then, with a sudden, violent surge, the tendrils of darkness shattered, breaking apart like glass under immense pressure. Reazeal's body convulsed violently as if he were being torn in two, but when it was over, he stood. The air around him crackled with energy, and his eyes, now glowing with an eerie light, turned toward Lysara.
"I… I did it," he whispered, his voice strained. "But I don't know what's left of me."
Lysara stared at him, her heart pounding. The power in him was undeniable, but there was something terrifying about it. He was different—changed, and not just in appearance. His aura now radiated something dark and primal, as if he were no longer the man she had fought alongside.
The world around them seemed to pause, holding its breath as the power within Reazeal surged, reaching out like a tidal wave. The very earth beneath their feet trembled, and in the distance, the sky darkened even further, as though the very fabric of reality was being pulled apart.
And then, from somewhere deep within the abyss, came a voice—a whisper that echoed across the land, both distant and near.
"The Flame is no more."
---
End of Chapter 37.