The fires of Astralis still smoldered in Elyra's thoughts as the stormrunners soared toward the eastern mountains — toward the place even the old maps refused to name.
Kael rode close, his eyes on the horizon. "You sure this is the only way?"
"No," Elyra said. "But it's the one they won't see coming."
After the battle at the Old Gate, Thorn had vanished into shadow. And Velcrin… he was waiting. Watching. Too quiet.
The council had wanted to fortify Astralis. Veyra had begged her to stay.
But Elyra knew better. If Thorn had cracked the city from within, it meant Velcrin's rot had already spread further than they realized. And there was one place — far beyond the known — where the answers might still lie.
The Eastmarrow Expanse.
Long forbidden. Said to be cursed.
And worse — where the original Flamekeepers had vanished a generation ago.
By dusk, they reached the first boundary — a jagged canyon veined with glowing crystal and blackened roots.
No birds. No wind. Just the endless hum of old magic.
They dismounted and led the stormrunners to shelter behind crumbling spires. Kael unrolled a faded parchment — a map older than Astralis itself.
"According to this, there's a shrine two miles ahead," he said. "Built before the first wardings. If anything survived Velcrin's purge, it'll be there."
"Let's move fast," Elyra said, eyes scanning the dead trees. "We're not alone."
They made camp only long enough to drink and sharpen blades. Elyra couldn't explain it, but the ground felt… wrong. Too dry, yet soaked with energy. As if something was waiting beneath it.
The shrine emerged as a jagged silhouette against the stars — a tower half-collapsed into a gaping ravine, covered in ivy and bone-pale moss.
Kael lit a torch. "Looks abandoned."
"Everything looks abandoned until it starts whispering."
Inside, the air was cold and thick. Symbols lined the stone walls — the same script Elyra had seen in the Flamevaults, but older, less refined.
They descended spiral stairs into a room beneath the earth, where a stone altar stood surrounded by shattered obsidian mirrors.
In the center: a burned tome.
Elyra brushed dust from its cover. Her breath caught.
"This belonged to the First Flamekeeper," she whispered. "It's marked with her sigil."
Kael whistled low. "You sure?"
"I've seen it in the council vault. But that was… a copy. This is the original."
She opened it — pages crackling with age, words half-erased. But one line glowed faintly with hidden ink:
"The East remembers what the West has forgotten. The Shadow is not Velcrin. It is what comes after."
Kael leaned in. "What the hell does that mean?"
Elyra's skin chilled. "Velcrin isn't the end. He's a door."
They both spun as a creak echoed from behind.
A figure stood at the top of the stairs — cloaked in ash-gray robes, face hidden.
Elyra's hands lit with fire, Kael's blade rose.
The figure spoke — voice neither male nor female.
"You should not be here."
Elyra's fire brightened. "We go where truth hides."
"You seek truth?" the figure asked, stepping closer. "Then see it."
They raised a hand.
The world dissolved.
Elyra stood in a field of stars.
Kael beside her, his voice distant. "What is this?"
Then the stars moved — became torches. Towers. Cities. She realized they were in Astralis… but not the one they knew.
The vision showed the city as it once was — gleaming, vast, full of song.
Then came Velcrin — not as a man, but as a tear in the sky. A wound. He had not been born, but summoned.
The flame was not meant to stop him. It was meant to seal him.
But the seal had weakened.
"You bear a broken weapon," the cloaked figure's voice said. "You wield fire as thread… but the needle is lost."
Elyra turned. "What needle?"
"To stitch the world shut again… you need the other half of the Flame."
"The Flame is whole," she said.
The figure said nothing.
Then the vision ended.
They stood once more in the shrine. The figure was gone.
Kael touched her arm. "Elyra…"
"I saw it too," she whispered. "Velcrin was never a man. He was a force. A curse that should never have been unbound."
"And the needle?"
"I don't know. But we're not strong enough yet."
They packed the tome and headed out — but the ground trembled.
Then — screaming.
From the trees rose shades. Hollow-eyed, robed in black mist. Creatures shaped like men but formed from shadow and dust.
Kael drew steel. Elyra summoned flame.
They fought back to back.
Kael's blade passed through one shade, only for another to leap from behind. Elyra screamed and turned — her threads of fire slicing it apart — but not before it raked a claw across Kael's chest.
He staggered.
"Kael!"
More shades poured from the trees.
Elyra called on the Weaving Flame, threads lashing outward in a web of light. The shadows shrieked and fell back, the light driving them off — for now.
Kael dropped to his knees, blood dripping.
She caught him, held him against her. "Stay with me."
His breath was ragged. "Looks… worse than it is."
She wasn't sure if he was lying for her or himself.
The shadows lingered just out of reach.
She dragged him to the stormrunner, half-lifting him onto the saddle.
"We need to fly."
Kael grunted. "Romantic."
She glared. "Shut up and bleed quieter."
By dawn, they were back in the outer reaches of Astralis, exhausted and wounded, but alive.
Elyra brought the tome to Veyra — and made her listen.
When she finished, the high commander looked pale.
"You went east," she said. "That was forbidden."
"It shouldn't be," Elyra said. "Not anymore."
"And you saw…"
"A truth we've all been avoiding. Velcrin isn't the war. He's the herald."
Veyra nodded slowly. "Then we'll prepare. For the war… and what follows."
That night, Kael slept under guard in the healer's wing. Elyra sat beside him, the candlelight flickering across his face.
He stirred, eyes opening. "You stayed."
"I almost lost you," she said softly. "Again."
He smiled faintly. "That's kind of our thing."
She reached for his hand.
When their fingers met, the fire didn't flare. It warmed.
Not threat — but comfort. Not danger — but something real.
Kael whispered, "We'll win this."
She leaned her head against his shoulder.
"We have to," she murmured. "The stars don't forgive second chances."