Emberreach was hidden beyond the Rift Hills — a valley swallowed by mist and guarded by enchantments that only responded to Ember blood. It was said to be the last sanctuary of the old fire clans, a place untouched since the Arcane Purge.
Elira led them through dense woods, her presence parting the illusions. Every step closer brought a strange stillness, like the world was holding its breath.
When they arrived, the city was buried in ash.
Crumbling towers, shattered statues, and scorched bridges greeted them. The buildings were carved with fire runes, but age and sorrow had dimmed their glow.
"This was once a haven," Elira whispered, brushing ash from a broken emblem on the wall — her family crest.
Kael knelt beside an old brazier. "What happened here?"
Elira looked around slowly. "It wasn't an attack. It was a silence. A decision to vanish. They sealed this place to keep the fire from falling into the wrong hands."
Dante kicked a stone aside, revealing an old sigil in the ground. "Looks like someone tried to break through not long ago."
That's when they heard the footsteps.
A lone figure walked from the fog, wearing the armor of an Arcane Inquisitor. But his eyes — pale and flickering — marked him as something else.
"Elira Ember," he called out. "The Council welcomes your return."
Elira's flames flared on instinct. "You're not Council. You're corrupted."
The figure chuckled, voice layered with static. "I'm what your ancestors feared. I am what silence gave birth to."
And with a sudden twist of his hands, the ground exploded beneath them.