The rift yawned wider, vomiting forth a legion of rift-walkers. Their jagged blades carved the air, violet runes blazing as the Devourer's voice shook the earth.
You defy entropy itself, little spark.
Alex's gauntlet flared, celestial fire roaring to life. "Lira—the wards! If they reach the temple—"
"They won't." Lira unsheathed twin daggers, their edges glowing with faint gold. "Hold the line!"
The forge sentinels charged, stone fists crashing into the first wave of rift-walkers. Metal screamed as the two forces collided. Alex hurled a comet of white flame, incinerating three hunters mid-leap. But for every one that fell, two more clawed from the rift.
Lira spun through the chaos, daggers severing limbs and throats. Black blood splattered her face. "Alex! The rift—close it now!"
He raised his gauntlet, channeling the forge's flame. The fire arced toward the rift—and splintered against an invisible barrier. The Devourer's laughter boomed.
You think my domain so easily undone?
A tendril of mist lashed from the rift, wrapping Alex's wrist. The gauntlet's black veins writhed, rot seeping into his skin. His fire dimmed.
"No!" Lira tackled him, slicing the tendril with her dagger. The severed mist recoiled, hissing. "The gauntlet's corrupting you. Don't let it in!"
Alex shuddered, clutching his arm. The rot pulsed, whispering of the void. You belong here. With us.
"Liar." He forced the gauntlet's flame hotter, burning the rot to ash. "I'm done listening to gods."
The sentinels were losing ground. One shattered under a rift-walker's blade, its core dissolving. Lira dragged Alex behind a boulder as violet energy bolts rained around them.
"Plan?" she panted.
Alex stared at the gauntlet. "The flame can't close the rift… but maybe I can."
"Suicide."
"Not if you help." He gripped her shoulder. "The forge's fire is in me. But it needs… a conduit. Something to amplify it."
Lira's eyes narrowed. "What conduit?"
He pointed to her daggers. "Those aren't steel. They're sunsteel, like the gauntlet. The Order's work."
She flinched. "You don't know what you're asking."
"You've been hiding their power. Why?"
A rift-walker's blade sheared the boulder above them. Lira cursed. "Because they're anchors. Tied to the First Sanctum. Use them wrong, and they'll unravel me."
Alex met her gaze. "Trust me."
For a heartbeat, she hesitated. Then she slammed the daggers into the earth. "Do it."
He clasped the hilts. The daggers blazed gold, their light fusing with his gauntlet's flame. Energy surged—a hurricane of heat and memory.
Lira's memories.
A younger Lira, kneeling in the First Sanctum. A priestess with a crown of thorns placing the daggers in her hands. "You are the last Warden. Guard the light, even from yourself."
A betrayal. Lira's dagger buried in the priestess's chest, black rot spreading from the wound. "The Devourer promised freedom," the dying priestess said . "You'll learn the cost."
Lira fleeing as the Sanctum collapsed, daggers seared with guilt.
The vision broke. Lira's face was pale. "You saw."
"You tried to destroy the Sanctum," Alex said.
"I was wrong. The Devourer lied. It doesn't free—it consumes." She gripped his wrist. "Now finish this. Before I change my mind."
Alex channeled the combined fire through the daggers. The ground split, a column of white flame erupting toward the rift. The Devourer's eye widened.
NO
The inferno struck. Reality itself screamed as the rift imploded, shredding the remaining rift-walkers. The sentinels shielded their eyes, stone cracking under the blast.
When the light faded, the sky was silent. The rift was gone.
So was half the gauntlet.
Alex collapsed, his right arm raw and blistered. The remaining sunsteel had fused to his bones, glowing faintly. Lira crouched beside him, her daggers now dull and brittle.
"Told you it'd work," he croaked.
She barked a laugh. "You're insane."
One sentinel remained, its body scorched. "The Devourer… retreats. But this victory is temporary."
Lira stood, surveying the smoldering battlefield. "Then we'll be ready. The forge is active. The wards hold. We rebuild."
Alex tried to rise, then gasped. His veins glowed gold beneath his skin. "Lira… something's wrong."
She pressed a hand to his chest—and jerked back. "Your heartbeat. It's… not yours."
Beneath his ribs, a steady pulse of celestial fire throbbed. The forge's flame, alive in his core.
"The fire needed a vessel," the sentinel said. "You are bound now. A living ward."
Alex swallowed. "Can I survive this?"
The sentinel turned away. "The first Forgemaster carried the flame for a century. But he was not human."
Lira helped Alex stand. "We'll find a way to fix this."
"Or not." He flexed his skeletal hand, sunsteel gleaming. "Might be useful."
They returned to the temple at dusk. The wards blazed gold, pushing back the Devourer's haze. Priestesses and survivors gathered, their cheers brittle with exhaustion.
A figure awaited them—an old woman with milky eyes and a scarred face. Lira froze.
"You," she sayed.
The woman smiled. "Hello, Lira. Miss me?"
Alex stepped forward. "Who is this?"
"Ryna," Lira spat. "The priestess I… left buried in the Sanctum."
Ryna chuckled. "Buried, not dead. Thanks to him." She pointed a gnarled finger at Alex. "The Devourer's little anchor. Except now you're something else. A furnace walking."
Alex's flame flickered. "What do you want?"
"To offer a trade." Ryna tossed a shard of black crystal. Inside, violet smoke swirled. "The Devourer's essence. Enough to purge the rot from your gauntlet—and your soul."
Lira snatched the shard. "In exchange for what?"
Ryna's grin widened. "A key. The boy comes with me to the Dead Plains. The Devourer wants to… negotiate."
"No deal," Lira said.
"Wait." Alex stared at the shard. "If this can stop the corruption—"
"It's a trap." Lira crushed the shard underfoot. Violet mist writhed, forming a screeching face before dissolving.
Ryna sighed. "Pity. He'll come willingly eventually. The flame will hollow him out. And you'll beg the Devourer to take him." She vanished in a swirl of ash.
The crowd murmured fearfully. Lira gripped Alex's arm. "We'll fix this. Without them."
He nodded, but the flame in his chest burned colder.
That night, Alex dreamed again.
The void. The shapes. And now—a throne of smoldering stars.
The figure from before stood beside it, its form shifting between man and monstrosity. You impress me, child. Defying gods is no small feat.
Alex struggled to speak. "What are you?"
The First Flame. The spark before the sun. The Devourer is my shadow, cast when light began.The figure's gaze pierced him. You carry my essence now. A dangerous honor.
"Can you stop the corruption?"
I can show you how. The throne flared. But power demands sacrifice. Kill the priestess. Her soul will stabilize yours.
Alex recoiled. "Never."
The figure sighed. Then burn brightly—and briefly.
He woke screaming, his skin crackling with heat. Lira burst in, dagger drawn.
"Another vision?"
He nodded, trembling. "They want me to kill you."
She sat beside him. "Let me guess. In exchange for salvation?"
"How'd you know?"
"Because the gods always ask for what you can't give." She pressed a waterskin to his lips. It tasted of bitter herbs. "Sleep. I'll keep watch."
Alex's flames dimmed under her steady gaze. But as he drifted off, he glimpsed her dagger hovering near his chest—hesitating—before she sheathed it.
At dawn, scouts brought news. The Dead Plains were stirring. Shadows moved where none should. Ryna's laughter echoed in the wind.
The war wasn't over.
It had just begun.