Ashendred was gone.
Not just ruined—erased. Where once stood towers and cathedrals, now there was only a blackened crater, its center scorched with the sigil of Rathmaelos, glowing faintly like an ember in the dark.
Kaelith stared at it, her jaw tight. "That symbol… it shouldn't be visible yet."
Drex stood at the edge of the crater, his cloak flapping in the wind. "Why not?"
"Because the Fourth Seal hasn't been touched." She glanced at him, eyes narrowed. "This isn't just progress. It's acceleration."
Drex frowned. "What does that mean?"
Kaelith looked up to the darkening sky.
"It means someone else is helping you."
---
A New Name
Southward, the land shifted again—from ashen plains to jagged, broken valleys. Old warfronts. Abandoned camps. Forgotten graves.
At the outskirts of a shattered stone bridge, a half-buried marker read:
> Here fell House Vorn – traitors to the Crown, loyal to flame.
Drex brushed frost off the stone. Beneath the main engraving, a smaller one had been etched in haste:
> Malven lives.
His breath caught.
This place… he remembered it.
His last campaign as commander of the Pyreborn Legion had ended here. He'd led the final assault on House Vorn. And now, someone had left a message—for him.
Kaelith studied it. "You were more than a soldier. You were a symbol."
"I don't want to be," he muttered.
"That choice is gone."
---
Shadows in the Wind
That night, as they camped beside the cliffs, Kaelith left to scout for fresh water. Drex sat alone near the fire, the sword resting across his knees.
Then—a voice.
Not Kaelith's.
Not Virelle's.
Not even the blade's.
> You burn, but do not blaze.
You seek vengeance, but do not see the price.
Come find me, son of ash.
Drex stood, eyes scanning the darkness. "Who's there?"
Silence.
Then the fire turned black for a heartbeat.
When it returned to normal, a single obsidian feather lay at its center.
---
Kaelith Returns
She found him standing at the fire's edge, sword drawn.
"What happened?"
Drex handed her the feather.
She stared.
"Impossible," she whispered. "Only the First Ember bore these. The Arch-Flamewing. The Herald of Rathmaelos."
"He's alive?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she rolled up her sleeve and revealed a tattoo on her forearm—an ancient rune burned into her flesh.
"I was raised by flame-priests in the Emberhold. They said the First Ember died centuries ago. But this... This is his calling sign."
Drex's eyes hardened.
"Then we find him."
---
Meanwhile – In the Shattered Spire
The Shadeborn moved like liquid shadow across the ruined temple.
Their leader, cloaked in obsidian silk, knelt before a pool of silver fire.
"The Third Seal is broken," the pool whispered.
A dozen shade-voices murmured in reply.
"And the flame-bearer?" the Shadeborn leader asked.
"Awakening."
"Shall we end him?"
A pause.
"No. Let him reach the Fourth. Let him taste the truth. Only then will he understand what he truly carries."
And the fire flared brighter.
---
A Path Forward
Drex and Kaelith continued their descent through the valley of bones, following rumors of a ruined city beneath the rock—once called Aelthar Vane, where the Emberhold buried its secrets.
As they crossed a bridge of charred stone, Drex asked, "What is the Fourth Seal?"
Kaelith's answer was barely a whisper.
"A name no one speaks anymore. A place that remembers the fire before it was weaponized."
"What's it called?"
Kaelith turned to him.
"Solreach."
And in the distance, thunder cracked the sky.