Chapter 43: Elira’s Last Light

The temple's sanctum was a crumbling ruin, its once-golden walls scorched and cracked, the air heavy with ash and decay. Caelen lay slumped against a fallen pillar, his breath shallow, his skin deathly pale. Black veins snaked up his neck like poison roots, and the scar on his chest pulsed faintly—no longer a beacon, but a dying ember.

Elira knelt beside him, her hands glowing dimly as she poured what little magic she had left into him. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with the dust of battle. "Stay with me, Caelen," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of grief. "We're so close. You can't give up now."

He offered a weak, trembling smile, his eyelids fluttering. "I'm trying… but it's too much. The pain… it's everywhere."

Her chest clenched. The curse was devouring him from the inside out, Aerthalin's collective suffering pulling him under like a tide. They were steps from the end, yet he was slipping away before her eyes. Desperation surged through her veins, and with it, a decision she had feared for days.

"There's a way," she said, barely above a whisper. "A ritual. I can give you part of my soul—my strength. It'll keep you alive long enough to face him."

Caelen's eyes widened, horror piercing through the haze of his pain. "No, Elira. You can't. That kind of magic—it'll destroy you."

"I don't care," she said fiercely, tears falling faster now. "I won't lose you. Not like this."

His trembling hand reached for hers, fingers ghosting against her skin. "You've given enough. I can't let you—"

"You don't decide," she cut in, her voice suddenly steady. "I love you, Caelen. Since the moment you took my pain without hesitation. Let me do this. For us."

He had no strength left to argue.

She began the incantation, her voice soft and melodic, ancient words weaving through the air like a lullaby of sorrow. Golden light bloomed from her chest, threads of it spiraling into Caelen's scar. He gasped as the black veins recoiled, his breath stabilizing, the ember in his chest reigniting. But as he grew stronger, Elira dimmed—her fire flickering, her skin growing cold.

She slumped beside him, breathless, her body leaning into his. Caelen caught her, cradling her gently, guilt etched into every line of his face. "What have you done?"

"Saved you," she whispered, a faint, weary smile touching her lips. "Now, let's finish this."

He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "Together."

They stood, side by side, the weight of sacrifice hanging between them. One heart flickering. One scar blazing. But together, they were a light the darkness could not extinguish.

And ahead, the final battle waited.