Kieran stepped into the hut, the cursed sword humming with bloodlust in his grip. His eyes glowed with the faint hue of red—a warning of the dark magic now pulsing through his veins. Elara instinctively stepped in front of Damon, her arms stretched as though she could protect him from the fury of his brother.
"You're not welcome here," Damon said evenly, his voice like steel wrapped in ice.
"I'm not here for hospitality," Kieran sneered. "I'm here for justice. You took everything, Damon—our father's name, the glory, the command. You left me in the ashes, like a dog."
Ajani moved closer to Elara, hand already resting on the hilt of his blade. Damon didn't move.
"You think this is about revenge? About rank? You've been poisoned by the past, Kieran. And now you let something far worse control you."
"You mean The Whisperer? At least it gave me a chance. You inherited power. I had to fight for it."
The cursed sword flared, sending a blast of energy that cracked the wooden frame of the hut. Elara screamed, and Damon pushed her back just in time.
The storm outside responded to the tension inside. Thunder roared, and lightning slashed the sky like a silver whip.
"This ends now," Damon said, stepping forward.
Kieran smiled. "Good. I hoped you'd say that."
The two brothers clashed in an explosion of steel and fury. Sparks flew. Damon's blade met Kieran's cursed sword, and the shockwave knocked Elara and Ajani back several feet.
"Don't interfere," Damon warned.
Elara stared in horror as the brothers fought like legends reborn. Damon's style was precise, trained, disciplined. Kieran was wild, feral, driven by rage. And yet—there was power in both. Equal and opposite.
"He's losing control," Ajani muttered beside her. "Kieran's feeding on the curse. It's not just power—it's possession."
Elara's heart pounded. The medallion still burned against her chest, hidden beneath her shirt. Her mind raced back to the journal entries—the cycle of death, the endless rebirth. There had to be a way to stop it.
Suddenly, Kieran's blade slashed across Damon's chest. Blood sprayed. Damon stumbled.
"Yes!" Kieran roared. "You bleed like the rest of us!"
But Damon didn't fall. He straightened, wiped blood from his lip, and his eyes began to glow—a deep, ancient gold.
Ajani's face paled. "No... Damon, no. Not the beast. Not again."
Damon's breathing slowed. His body trembled—not from pain, but from power. The curse. The beast within. It was awakening.
"Damon!" Elara cried. "Look at me! Don't let it take you!"
But it was too late.
Damon let out a growl that shook the walls. His eyes burned like suns. His skin darkened, shadowed by an aura of raw, unrestrained power. Kieran stepped back for the first time, his smirk faltering.
"No... not again," he muttered. "They said you sealed it."
"He did," Ajani whispered. "But for her… he'd unseal the heavens."
Damon lunged—faster than lightning, stronger than reason. His strikes sent Kieran crashing through the walls of the hut, out into the mud and rain.
Elara ran after them. The rain soaked her through, but she barely felt it.
Outside, the brothers fought under the storm's fury, surrounded by soldiers too afraid to approach. Every blow shook the ground. Every roar was like thunder.
Kieran's cursed blade clashed with Damon's now-unnatural strength, but the tide was turning. Damon was overpowering him—slowly, ruthlessly.
And then—Kieran's foot slipped. Damon struck, sending him flying across the clearing.
Elara stepped forward, shouting, "Damon! STOP!"
He turned to her—his face no longer human. A beast of smoke and fire, barely recognizable.
It's me," she said. "Elara. You're not him. You're still you. Please come back."
Lightning struck a tree behind them, igniting it in flames. The camp was chaos. The Whisperer's presence could be felt—somewhere near, watching.
Damon stumbled forward, growling, confused. The medallion on Elara's chest began to glow, reacting to his rage.
She removed it and held it out. "Take it. If you still remember me, take it."
His hand trembled. His claws retracted. Slowly, painfully, he took the medallion.
As soon as it touched his skin, light burst around them. The beast screamed—and faded. Damon collapsed into the mud, human again. Bloodied. Barely breathing.
Kieran groaned from across the field, clutching his side.
Ajani and two soldiers rushed to Damon's side.
Elara held him in her arms, tears mixing with rain. "You came back. You came back to me."
Damon's eyes fluttered open. He managed a weak smile. "I always do."
But in the shadows beyond the firelight, The Whisperer stood beside Kieran, whispering in his ear.
"Let him live for now," it said. "He's not your real enemy. She is."
Kieran's eyes flared with something new. Hatred. Obsession. And a dangerous, growing belief.
That Elara didn't just belong to Damon.
She belonged to him, too.