The clash of steel and the roar of battle consumed the air as Kael met the attackers head-on, his blade a blur of deadly precision. Each swing of his sword seemed almost supernatural, cutting down shadows as if guided by an unseen force. The guards rallied to his side, but the ambush was overwhelming; the attackers moved with inhuman speed, their forms flickering unnaturally in the mist.

Elara stood frozen at the centre of the bridge, her heart hammering as the raw magic within her surged to life. It clawed for release, wild and potent, but she hesitated. Her powers had always been unpredictable, more curse than gift. Yet now, with death closing in, she had no choice.

Her hands began to glow, faintly at first, then brighter, as tendrils of green energy curled around her fingers. One of the attackers leapt toward her, its face hidden beneath a hood, a blade gleaming in its hand. Instinctively, she thrust her palms forward. A burst of light erupted, blinding and forceful, sending the figure hurtling backwards into the ravine with a guttural scream.

The sudden display of power drew the attention of friend and foe alike. Kael, dispatching another assailant, glanced over his shoulder, his silver eyes narrowing at the sight of her magic. But there was no time for questions. Another wave of attackers surged toward them, more relentless than the first.

“Elara!” Kael’s voice cut through the chaos. “Can you control it?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted back, her voice trembling with fear and adrenaline.

“Then focus,” he commanded, his tone sharp but steady. “Channel it. Use it!”

The words anchored her, giving her something to hold onto amidst the storm within. Elara took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she tried to summon the energy again. The attackers closed in, but this time, she was ready. With a sweep of her arms, she unleashed a wave of green light, knocking several of them off their feet.

Kael seized the opportunity, his blade slicing through the remaining attackers with ruthless efficiency. When the last shadowy figure fell, silence returned to the bridge, broken only by the groans of the injured and the creaking of the ropes.

Elara collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as the magic subsided. Her hands still tingled, the residual energy sparking faintly before fading. Lyria rushed to her side, her face pale with worry.

“My lady, are you hurt?” she asked, helping Elara to her feet.

“No,” Elara murmured, her voice weak. “I’m… fine.”

Kael approached, his expression unreadable. His armour was splattered with blood, but his movements were as controlled and measured as ever. He stopped before her, studying her with an intensity that made her uneasy.

“You have power,” he said, his voice low. “More than I expected.”

Elara met his gaze, her own eyes defiant despite her exhaustion. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” he admitted. “But not the extent of it. You may have just saved us all.”

She didn’t know whether to feel pride or dread. The magic that had protected her was the same force that had haunted her for years, the source of her isolation and fear. And now, it had been laid bare before a man who was little more than a stranger.

Kael extended a hand. “We should move. This place is not safe.”

She hesitated, then placed her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet. As they resumed their journey, the weight of the moment settled over her. The ambush had been no ordinary attack—it had been targeted, deliberately. And deep in her heart, Elara knew that her magic was the reason why.

As the group pressed on, Raventhorn Castle loomed in the distance, its dark spires piercing the grey sky like jagged fangs. The sight sent a chill down her spine, but she squared her shoulders and pushed forward. Whatever awaited her within those walls, she would face it with the same resolve that had carried her through the battle.

Little did she know, the attack on the bridge was only the beginning.