He forced himself to stand straight, and staggered forward, his muscles aching, his head throbbing. The city streets loomed before him, dark and ominous walls of stone. But it was his only chance.

He had to move, one step in front of the other. He couldn’t give up, not after everything that had brought him to this point. The long years of research and study, the secrets he had uncovered, the truths of his world and Malekith’s, and the bond that had formed between him and the demon prince, threading its way into his very soul.

Malekith had called it a curse, but as Aric stumbled deeper into the streets of Drindal, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It was the only thing that had kept him going in the darkest moments of his captivity, the thought of Malekith, of the connection that bound them together.

And now, as he felt that bond stretching and straining, threatening to snap, he clung to it with all his might. He reached for it, a thread of darkness and heat and the promise of a better world. A world where demons and humans didn’t have to be enemies, where the war that had raged for centuries could finally, blessedly, come to an end.

A world that was waiting for him, if only he had the strength to reach it.

Aric ran.

He ran until his lungs burned with the cold night air, and his muscles ached with every step. He ran until the streets blurred with darkness, and the only sound was the desperate thud of his heart in his ears.

He didn’t dare look back. He didn’t want to see the shadows moving between the buildings, the flicker of flames as the demon guards gave chase. He had to believe that Malekith was holding his own, that the guards were too preoccupied with Malekith and the ensuing chaos to pay Aric any mind.

He had to make it to freedom. He couldn’t let Malekith’s sacrifice be in vain.

He wept for all that he had lost, and all that he had failed to do. He wept for Malekith who had given everything for him, and the future he yearned for that now lay in tatters at his feet.

The city of Drindal blurred around Aric as he ran, his boots pounding against the cobblestones, the cool night air stinging his cheeks. He raced through the winding streets, following the path that instinct and desperation laid out before him. He had no plan, no destination in mind, only the aching need to escape, to put as much distance as he could between himself and the demon city.

The city’s twisted architecture loomed over him, a tangle of spires and bridges and dark, yawning doorways. The streets were a labyrinth, a maze that threatened to swallow him whole at any moment.

He could almost hear the guards behind him, their laughter echoing off the stone. He pushed himself to run faster, his muscles burning with the effort. 

A dead end. The street he’d been following came to an abrupt stop, the buildings on either side pressing in close. Too close. Aric’s heart pounded in his ears as he scanned the walls, looking for any sign of a way through, a secret door or passage that he could use to escape.

But there was nothing. Only the cold stone of the city walls, and the stench of magic that hung in the air.

Aric pressed himself against the wall and tried to slow his breathing, his mind racing. He had to think. He couldn’t let the guards catch him, but there was nowhere left to run.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the street, and Aric’s breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and pressed himself flat against the wall, willing himself to blend into the shadows. He couldn’t give up. He had to keep fighting, for his freedom, for the future that lay just out of reach.

The footsteps stopped, and Aric held his breath. He was cornered, a wounded animal, but he refused to go down without a fight.

Slowly, he turned to face his pursuers, and his eyes narrowed with a feral gleam.

“Human,” one of the guards snarled, his eyes glowing with a baleful light.

Aric didn’t wait for them to make the first move. With a defiant roar, he pushed himself away from the wall and summoned the golden fire.

The guards’ eyes widened in recognition, and then they were running at him, their weapons drawn, their fangs bared.

Aric met them head-on, his magic surging through him, raw and untamed. For the first time since his capture, he was free. Free to unleash the full extent of his power, to let the flames dance and whirl and consume everything in their path.

He laughed, a wild, desperate sound, and the guards faltered for a moment, taken aback. It was all the opening he needed. He raised his hands, and the fire roared to life, a blazing inferno that turned the night into day.

The flames licked at the stone, blackening it with soot. The heat seared the air, making it hard to breathe. Aric’s skin glowed with a fierce, unearthly light as he advanced on the guards, his eyes locked on theirs.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled. The flames danced in time with his words, a deadly promise. “A taste of my power? I hope it burns you to ash.”

Aric’s laughter turned to a battle cry as he unleashed the flames on the guards, the searing heat of his magic turning their dark skin to ash. They screamed, a high, keening sound that raised gooseflesh on his overheated skin, but he forced himself to look away. They were demons, his captors, the ones who had taken everything from him. He couldn’t afford to feel sympathy for them, not now, not when his life was hanging in the balance.

He moved with a fluid grace, each gesture sending waves of fire that consumed his opponents. The flames danced and whirled around him, a living thing, a part of him, an extension of his will. He had always been afraid of his power, of the destruction it could wreak, but now, in this moment, he embraced it.

He was a god of fire, a force of nature, and nothing could stand in his way.

The guards fell one by one, their bodies crumbling to ash, and the stench of burning flesh filled the night air. Aric’s hands glowed with golden vengeance as he surveyed the carnage, his chest heaving with the effort.

He had done it. He had bested the guards. He was free.

Aric’s vision swam, and he staggered, the world tilting dangerously to one side. The cool night air turned frigid, and he struggled to draw a breath, the taste of smoke and victory bitter on his tongue.

Aric stumbled to a halt at the junction of tunnels, unsure which path to take, when the air before him shimmered and rippled like heat rising from sun-baked stone.

Sylthris the Gravewhisper materialized, her silver hair gleaming in the dim light. Aric’s muscles tensed, golden fire flickering at his fingertips as he prepared for another fight. But Sylthris merely stood there, regarding him with an amused smirk that chilled him to the bone.

“Well, well,” she murmured. “What have we here?”

Aric’s eyes darted from side to side, searching for an escape route, but Sylthris blocked his path. She looked completely unruffled by the chaos above, as if the sounds of battle and pursuit were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

“Come now, little mage,” Sylthris said, taking a step closer. “Did you really think it would be that easy to slip away?”

Aric’s throat tightened, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He raised his hands, golden flames dancing between his fingers. “Stay back,” he warned, his voice hoarse from smoke and exertion.

Sylthris laughed, a sound like breaking glass. “Oh, I do so love it when they have fight left in them.” Her eyes, swirling pools of lavender and midnight blue, locked onto his. “But tell me, Aric Solarian, do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

Aric’s hands trembled, the golden flames dancing erratically between his fingers. Sylthris’s laughter echoed off the stone walls, a haunting melody that set his teeth on edge.

In a blink, she vanished, only to reappear behind him. Aric whirled, his heart hammering against his ribs. Another flash, and she stood to his left, then his right, always wearing that infuriating smirk.

“What’s the matter, little mage?” Her voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. “Can’t keep up?”

Aric’s eyes darted frantically, trying to track her movements. His restored powers surged through him, but doubt crept in like a poison. Even at full strength, could he hope to best the Sovereign’s spymaster?

Sylthris materialized directly in front of him, close enough that he could see the swirling depths of her eyes. Aric flinched back, raising his hands defensively.

“Oh, put those away,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. “You’re free to go.”

Aric blinked, certain he had misheard. “What?”

Sylthris’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed just a touch too sharp. “You heard me, darling. The door’s wide open.” She gestured lazily towards one of the tunnels. “Unless, of course, you’d rather stay?”

Aric’s mind raced. It had to be a trap, some cruel game she was playing. And yet . . . the path she indicated did lead towards the city’s outskirts.

Aric’s eyes narrowed, suspicion etched across his face. The flames at his fingertips flickered uncertainly as he studied Sylthris, searching for any sign of deception.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice raw. “Why would you let me go?”