The fire sang in his veins.Not the wild, untamed inferno it had been moments ago, but something deeper—quieter. A low hum, like the breath of a beast sleeping beneath his skin, waiting. His entire body trembled. Muscles scorched. Skin raw. Pain pulsed through every nerve like a drumbeat of war, but… he was still whole. Barely.
The flames had retreated, coiling inward like serpents, leaving behind glowing trails along his limbs. Steam hissed violently from the cavern walls. The once-frozen floor was no more—now a smoldering wasteland of blackened stone, cracked and glowing faintly with residual heat beneath his bloodied knees.
Haa… haa…
He gasped for breath. The air was thick—smoke, ash, and sulfur seared his lungs with each inhale. His vision blurred at the edges, but slowly, steadily, the molten gold in his eyes began to dim, fading like the last light of a dying star.
And then—clarity.
She stood there.
Arms crossed. Silver-blue eyes gleaming with mischief. Crimson hair dancing in the heat-warped air, as if even the fire bent to her whims.
Elsa.
"Well…" she drawled, her voice lilting, soaked in amusement. "Now that was a fine show."
Grey blinked slowly, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Even through the haze, her voice pierced clean through—sharp, undeniable. He didn't respond. Couldn't, not right away. He only watched as she stepped off the rocky ledge with practiced grace, boots crunching softly against scorched stone.
She approached him like a hunter inspecting prey—wounded, but still dangerous.
"Hm," she murmured, tilting her head. "Surprisingly, you still look… fine. If we ignore the lovely aroma of roasted flesh."
A small glass vial arced through the air. Reflexes sluggish, Grey caught it—barely.
"..."
He stared at it.
"Tch."
Her voice echoed lightly in the cavern.
"Don't get sentimental. It's just a potion."
Without a word, he uncorked it and drank. The effect was immediate.
Warmth—not the burn of fire, but the soothing touch of sunlight on frostbitten skin—spread through him. The pain dulled. Burned flesh stitched itself together with a faint shimmer, cracked skin smoothing over. He exhaled, a low, shuddering breath.
"…Thanks," he rasped, voice like gravel.
"Mmhm." Elsa hummed, spinning her bow lazily in one hand. "So... what was that?"
Grey shook his head, dazed.
"I couldn't control it."
"No shit," she laughed, one brow raised, cocking her hip to the side. "You were tapping into a high-rank rune for the first time. Honestly? I thought you'd turn into a pile of ash."
His gaze dropped to his hand. He opened and closed his fist slowly, watching faint golden veins still pulse with residual heat beneath his skin.
lifting his head he looked at her.
"...What?" Elsa asked, frowning slightly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You said you'd help me."
"...Yeah?"
"Then don't you think now is the time?"
Elsa blinked. For a moment, she was caught off guard—not by his words, but by the way he said them.
So direct.
So unapologetically straightforward.
That wasn't how she'd pegged him.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him anew. Pride. That's what she saw in him—coiled tight in every movement, etched into the way he held his gaze.
Grey was a prideful man.
And for someone like him to ask for help… so plainly?
It stirred something in her.
She didn't let it show, of course. But a smile tugged at her lips anyway, unbidden. The more she saw of him, the more curious she became.
Without a word, Elsa sat on a nearby rock, crossing one leg over the other. The teasing faded, her tone leveling into something sharper—cooler.
"The Fire of Sacrifice isn't like other runes," she said. "It doesn't bend to mana. Doesn't care about emotion. Anger, grief, nobility—none of that matters. It only answers one thing."
Her voice dropped, almost reverent.
"What you give up."
Grey remained still, silent.
"The stronger the sacrifice, the stronger the fire," she continued. "But it's not infinite. It's a well. You fill it with loss. The more it takes from you—the more it gives back."
She paused, letting her words settle like ash in the silence.
"But it's not just about giving. The offering has to matter. If it doesn't—if the rune decides your sacrifice is meaningless…" She gestured to the scorched ruin around him. "It rejects you. Tries to devour you whole."
Grey's eyes narrowed. That explained it. The pain. The chaos. The emptiness he felt right after…
His brows furrowed.
Something felt off.
He reached inward, sifting through his thoughts—his memories.
Then stopped.
There was a hole.
A gap.
Something was missing.
His breath caught in his throat. Not just a forgotten detail—no. It was deeper. A missing emotion. A phantom warmth. Something precious.
A smile.
Soft. Kind.
Gone.
He didn't know who it belonged to. Didn't know what he'd lost.
But whatever it was…
It had mattered.
Elsa's voice broke through the silence again—gentler, but laced with curiosity.
"So," she asked, eyes sharp. "What did you sacrifice?"
Grey looked at her. Really looked. She wasn't asking out of simple curiosity. She already knew the answer carried weight.
He could lie.
He almost did.
But instead…
"…A memory," he said quietly. "Something I can't recall anymore."
Elsa didn't smirk this time.
She just… stared. Searching his face. Looking for the truth behind the words.
After a long silence, she gave a single nod.
"Then it must've been a damn good one," she murmured, rising to her feet, brushing dust from her coat. "Be careful, Grey. Fire like that doesn't burn without consequence. And the deeper you reach…" she glanced at him over her shoulder, a glimmer of something unreadable in her eyes, "the more it'll take."
She turned fully, striding toward the exit.
"But hey—" she called back, grinning, "not bad for a first try. You didn't die."
"…Thanks for that too," Grey muttered.
She waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't thank me yet. You're still my meat shield in this ruin."
Grey pushed himself to his feet slowly. Ash fell from his sleeves like old snow. He looked down at his hands—watched the golden veins fade beneath the skin.
The fire wasn't just a weapon.
It was a pact.
And the price had already been paid.
Even if he no longer remembered what it was.