By the time the Skybound Council took notice, Elira had already hit four more dens.
Each time she appeared, she wore a red scarf over her mouth and a black coat to hide the flames pulsing through her gauntlet. But her hair — that impossible flame hue — always gave her away. People started calling her The Ember Wolf. A myth. A curse. A girl who walked in fire and didn't burn.
But she wasn't just looking to destroy. She was searching for answers. And each raid carved a path straight into the underbelly of Velmara's oldest power structures — the noble families, the enforcers, the masked Arcanists of the Council.
She was shaking the wrong walls. And the Council wasn't known for mercy.
In the floating Skybound District, where towers touched the clouds and the poor were invisible, Arch‑Warden Alric Vorn stood in his marble chamber, reading the report with narrowed eyes.
"She survived the relic's awakening?" he muttered. "Impossible. That flame should have consumed her."
"She didn't just survive," said a woman standing behind him. "She's growing stronger. Faster."
This was Sireen Halvors, the Council's personal huntress. She wore a cloak made from shadowbeasts and a cold smile carved from stone. Her eyes were pale silver — no pupils — a side effect of her vampire bloodline.
"She's bonded with the Ember Gauntlet," Vorn said. "We'll need her captured. If she resists… kill her."
Sireen smiled. "She'll scream before she dies."
Back in the ruins of the Forge District, Elira waited. She'd taken over the skeletal remains of her old home — now hollow, blackened, and cursed in local superstition. No one came near. That suited her fine.
She adjusted the gauntlet's core, letting the flames pulse in a quiet rhythm, syncing with her heartbeat.
Then — a shift in the wind. Something fast. She ducked instinctively as a silver dagger tore through the air, slicing across her cheek. She flipped backward, gauntlet flaring, just as Sireen dropped from the rooftop like a raven out of a nightmare.
"Cute place," Sireen said. "Would've made a great grave."
Elira didn't speak. She didn't need to. The fire spoke for her.
They clashed. Steel kissed flame. Magic shattered stone. Elira struck with brutal punches — not wild, but focused. Sireen danced around her with supernatural grace, fangs bared, blades singing. The vampire was fast, too fast — but the moment Sireen tried to stab her in the side, the gauntlet pulsed white‑hot and exploded, throwing her across the street.
Elira stood above her, panting, eyes glowing.
"You're strong," Sireen said, laughing with blood in her mouth. "But you're alone."
Then she vanished into smoke.
Elira stood in the ruins, heart pounding.
She had just fought a Skybound vampire enforcer. And survived.