The air was heavy with heat, but not from the sun.
From them.
Kairo stood at the head of the Ember March—two thousand strong, a column of flamebearers winding its way across the ash flats east of the Cradle. Cloaks flowed, weapons shone, and fire danced along skin and steel as if it had always been there.
This was not a show of force.
It was a promise.
Their target was Red Hollow.
A town that had once boomed on mineral flame deposits, now held by the Ash King's army—a forward outpost crawling with smokeblades and black-armored enforcers. Strategically placed between the Cradle and the southern trade routes, it was vital.
Its retaking would be the first actual act of war.
Sera stood beside Kairo, map flapping in her hand. "Scouts say they've reinforced the south wall. Flame siphons. Probably expecting you to attack from the front."
"I'm not," Kairo said. "I'm going under."
Rael looked up from where he sat, tuning a curved sword that gleamed with inner light. "The mines."
"They still run under Red Hollow. Long since collapsed, but I can burn a path."
Virella smiled. "An old tunnel assault. Classic."
Kairo's flame pulsed white-blue. "Let's demonstrate the fire doesn't request permission."
The assault came at dusk.
While a diversionary team fought at the south gates, Kairo led fifty of his best firebearers through the ruined mine tunnels under the town. The ground was near, claustrophobic, the air thick with old soot and broken magic.
He burned the last fallen tunnel in a subdued snarl of flame— contained, focused. Not rage. Not strength.
Accuracy.
They materialized in the center of Red Hollow's forge district.
The enemy was prepared.
Dozens of enforcers acted as one—eyes red, veins black, wielding siphoned flame corrupted. Flame-Reavers.
Sera cursed. "He sent the prototypes."
Rael stepped forward, sword erupting into flame in a casual arc. "Then we kill them before they are legend."
The fight was intense.
The Reavers did not fight like warriors.
They fought like machines.
Merciless. Coordinated. Too fast for their own good. Their fires were unnatural—gold and black, streaked with hijacked essence. When they struck, the fires around them grew dark, as though they ate light.
Kairo plunged into them.
He battled like a storm—flame wreathing his arms, burning through malformed metal. But even he felt it: the Reavers weren't dying right.
One of them fell. Then rose again, body rupturing, eyes vacant.
"They're not alive," Elin whispered. "They're possessed."
Kairo witnessed it too.
The Ash King had employed Awakened souls—tethered them to metal and fire.
Abominations.
No more mercy.
Kairo focused, summoning the First Pyre's spark within him. His fire was white, pure and punitive. With a yell, he thrust it out, burning through three Reavers in a single blast of flame.
They screamed—and didn't rise again.
The others faltered.
That was all the Circle needed.
Virella struck with lightning speed, swords flashing blue flame. Rael fought beside her, two Flameborn fighting in perfect concert. Sera dropped their leader with a shot so true the tower behind him fell.
And the others ran.
Red Hollow was theirs.
When it was over, the streets glowed with victory fires and healing light. Awakened civilians emerged from hiding, staring at Kairo like they were seeing a ghost they'd only dared hope was real.
"You're him," one whispered. "The one from the dream."
Kairo didn't answer.
He just took their hand and said, "You're free."
Later that night, around the firepit where the Reavers' armor now cooled like slag, Kairo looked to the stars.
They're creating weapons out of us," he said.
Rael nodded. "They always did. They simply stopped concealing it."
Sera leaned forward. "This was merely the edge. The true armies remain north."
"And the Ash King still waits," Elin said. "He'll send more. Worse."
Kairo gazed into the embers.
> "Then we greet him there. We bring the battle to his gates."
> "The flame didn't rise to flee.".