The sun barely crept over the horizon as Kael and Siris set out, leaving the dying embers of their campfire behind. The night’s tension still lingered in the air, thick and suffocating, pressing down on them like an unspoken weight. Kael kept his gaze fixed on the winding forest trail ahead, his jaw set. The silence between them wasn’t new—it had been growing for days—but after their conversation by the fire, it felt insurmountable.

Siris walked a few steps behind him, her boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. Kael could hear the faint clink of her sword against her armor with each step, a reminder of her readiness, her resolve. He envied it.

“Where are we even going?” Siris’s voice broke the silence, sharp and edged with frustration.

Kael didn’t slow his pace or turn to look at her. “Forward. That’s all that matters right now.”

Siris let out a quiet scoff. “That’s not a plan, Kael. That’s avoidance. We can’t just keep wandering aimlessly and hope for the best.”

Kael’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his patience already frayed. “What do you want me to say? That I have all the answers? Because I don’t. I’m doing the best I can with what we’ve got.”

“What we’ve got,” Siris muttered under her breath, “feels like it’s falling apart.”

Kael’s steps faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, keeping his gaze forward. He didn’t want to argue—not now. Not when his thoughts were already tangled in a web of self-doubt and frustration.

The forest around them was dense, the skeletal branches of the trees reaching out like claws against the pale morning sky. The chill in the air bit at Kael’s skin, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was the fire—the one inside him that refused to obey, the one that mocked him with its absence when he needed it most.

It wasn’t long before the stillness of the forest was shattered.

A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down Kael’s spine. He stopped in his tracks, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the dagger at his belt. Siris froze as well, her posture instantly shifting into one of readiness.

“What was that?” Kael whispered, his voice barely audible.

Siris scanned their surroundings, her eyes narrowing. “Trouble,” she said grimly, drawing her sword. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, a reassuring presence in the growing tension. “Stay close.”

Before Kael could respond, the creature emerged from the shadows. It was grotesque—a twisted amalgamation of fur, bone, and sinew, its form shifting unnaturally as though it didn’t quite belong to this world. Its eyes glowed with an eerie, otherworldly light, and its movements were jerky, like a puppet being yanked on invisible strings.

“Temporal beast,” Siris muttered, her voice low but steady. “The shattering of the Crystal must be drawing them out.”

The creature let out a guttural snarl and lunged toward them with unnatural speed. Kael barely had time to dive out of the way as its claws raked through the air where he’d been standing. Siris met the attack head-on, her sword flashing in a deadly arc that struck the creature across its flank.

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“Kael, move!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Kael scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. He gripped his dagger tightly, his mind racing. He wanted to help, to fight—but as he watched Siris engage the beast, he felt a sickening wave of helplessness. His firepower was supposed to make him stronger, wasn’t it? So why did he feel so powerless?

Siris fought with precision and ferocity, her blade carving through the creature’s shifting form. But it was relentless, driving her back step by step. Kael could see the strain in her movements, the way her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts.

“Kael!” she shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. “Do something!”

He clenched his fists, feeling the faintest flicker of heat stir in his palms. He focused on it, willing it to grow, to ignite. The fire sputtered to life for a brief moment—a weak, flickering glow that faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’m trying!” he shouted back, his voice cracking with frustration.

The creature turned its attention to Kael, its glowing eyes locking onto him with predatory intent. It lunged toward him, its claws gleaming in the dim light. Kael froze, his mind blank with panic.

And then Siris was there, her blade intercepting the creature’s attack with a shower of sparks. She drove it back with a ferocious cry, her sword plunging deep into its chest. The creature let out a final, otherworldly howl before collapsing, its form disintegrating into flickering shards of light that vanished into the air.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Kael stood frozen, his chest heaving, his hands trembling. Siris turned to him, her face pale and streaked with dirt. Her eyes were blazing—not with fear, but with anger.

“You could’ve helped,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut.

“I tried!” Kael shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I just... I couldn’t—”

“That’s not good enough,” Siris interrupted, her voice rising. “If you’re going to keep pretending you can do this alone, you’re going to get us both killed.”

Kael opened his mouth to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped him. It wasn’t just anger—it was disappointment. And that stung more than anything she could have said.

Siris sheathed her sword with a sharp motion, her expression hardening. “Figure it out, Kael. Before it’s too late.”

She turned and started walking, her footsteps crunching against the frosted ground. Kael stood there, rooted to the spot, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and shame.

He looked down at his hands, his fingers still tingling with the remnants of the fire that refused to obey him. The power was there—he could feel it, just out of reach. But every time he tried to grasp it, it slipped through his fingers like smoke.

“I’ll figure it out,” he muttered under his breath, his voice hard. “I don’t need anyone’s help.”

But even as he said the words, they felt hollow.

The rest of the day passed in strained silence. Siris stayed several paces ahead, her posture stiff and unyielding. Kael followed, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of her words hung over him, heavy and suffocating.

When they finally stopped to rest, Kael sat apart from her, his back against a tree. He stared at his hands again, his frustration bubbling to the surface. Why couldn’t he control it? The fire was supposed to be his strength, his weapon. But instead, it felt like a curse—a cruel joke played by forces he didn’t understand.

He closed his eyes and tried to summon it again. He focused on the heat, the spark that always seemed just out of reach. For a moment, he felt it—a flicker of warmth, a whisper of flame. But then it vanished, leaving him with nothing but the cold.

Kael let out a frustrated growl, slamming his fist against the ground. He could feel Siris watching him from across the camp, but he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in her eyes again.

The fire crackled softly between them, its light casting long shadows on the trees. Kael stared into the flames, his mind racing. He wanted to prove her wrong, to show her—and himself—that he wasn’t a failure.

But deep down, a small voice whispered a truth he didn’t want to face.

He was slipping. And he didn’t know if he could stop it.