Chapter 13: The Flame That Remembers 2
The guardian's form coalesced in smoke and anguish.
It towered above them, weeping molten silver from empty eyes, body twisting in shapes that defied the laws of flesh and fire. Dozens of arms flickered in and out of existence—some clawed, some armored, all wrong. Each movement carved burning symbols into the air, remnants of divine tongues long erased from the living world.
Raen shifted his stance, blade angled downward like a judgment waiting to fall.
The guardian hissed, voice layered with agony.
"You are unmade. A devourer of names. You wear stolen truths. You are not Raen."
His grip tightened on the hilt.
"I never claimed to be."
The guardian struck.
It moved without warning—one moment standing still, the next a blur of shrieking limbs. Raen sidestepped the first slash, barely, as a claw of light scraped his shoulder and tore a line of searing pain through his coat.
Behind him, Lyra's voice rose in a breathless incantation. The chains of fire burst from her palms—snakes of crimson lightning that wrapped around the guardian's legs, binding it to the stone floor. The thing howled, smoke boiling from its joints.
Raen lunged.