Alric adjusted his helm. Inside, a tiny blue flame flickered—the last ember of the Mighty Flame, the source of his power. “The first Mighty Knight sealed the Lich-Queen here a hundred years ago. The seal is failing. If I don’t…” He hefted his lance, Sunreaver , which glowed with the heat of a dying star. “Then the story ends.”
It ended with a man deciding that being mighty wasn’t about the power you carry—but the peace you leave behind.
Behind Alric, Elara cried out—skeletal hands erupted from the earth, gripping her ankles.
Alric coughed, laughing weakly. “No. I’m something better. I’m the one who chooses to fight even without the fire.”