Kael felt it before he saw it—the tremor, subtle but undeniable, rippling through the stone beneath his boots.
Something had awakened.
The rebels gathered in a quiet circle, the flicker of torches casting long shadows across the ancient chamber walls. The stench of scorched flesh still lingered, but worse than that was the silence—the unnatural stillness that followed the Flamewrought's destruction. It was as if the sanctum itself was holding its breath.
"We're not alone," Elara said, eyes scanning the corridor ahead. "And whatever's waiting, it knows we're coming."
Kael gripped his sword tighter. "Then let it feel our fire."
Lysaria stepped forward, the glow of her staff dim but steady. "There's something ahead. A forge... but not like any I've seen. Old. Powerful. I think we've reached the sanctum's core."
As they moved forward, the temperature dropped unnaturally, despite the flames they carried. Frost edged the stone, and strange runes pulsed faintly in the walls—blue, cold, and ancient.
Then they saw it.
The Forgeheart.
A massive chamber opened before them, circular and vast, centered around an anvil of obsidian wrapped in glowing chains. Floating above it was a sphere of flame—black at its core, rimmed with blood-red fire. It pulsed like a living thing, and its presence filled the room with dread.
"What in the hells is that?" whispered one of the rebels behind Kael.
Lysaria's breath caught. "The First Flame," she said, awe-stricken. "It was sealed centuries ago. The source of all elemental fire—pure and uncontrollable. It shouldn't be here."
"Yet here it is," Elara said. "And look—guardians."
Statues lined the circular walls, each twenty feet tall, carved from obsidian and emberglass. They held weapons of molten stone and wore expressions of sorrow and fury.
"They're not just statues," Kael said grimly. "They're waiting."
As if responding to his voice, the room shifted.
The floor beneath them shuddered. The runes flared. And the first of the guardians moved.
Its eyes lit with fire, and it stepped from its pedestal, dragging a molten blade as long as a man. It locked onto Kael—and charged.
"Scatter!" Kael roared.
The guardian swung, its blade slamming into the floor where Kael had stood. Stone shattered. Kael rolled aside and retaliated, striking at the creature's arm. Sparks flew—but his blade barely scratched the surface.
"It's absorbing the Flame!" Lysaria shouted, casting a blast of fire that was immediately pulled into the guardian's body.
"Then we use what it can't take," Elara said, hurling a dagger dipped in shadow-oil. The blade sank into a joint in the statue's leg. The guardian stumbled.
Kael seized the moment. Channeling his flame inward, he plunged his sword deep into the wound Elara created. White-hot fire exploded from the blade—and this time, the guardian screamed.
With a thunderous groan, it fell backward, cracking into pieces.
But the chamber rumbled again.
The other statues stirred.
"All of them," Kael muttered. "They're all waking up."
Lysaria's voice trembled. "If they protect the First Flame, then someone must be trying to take it."
And as if summoned by her words, a voice echoed across the chamber—silken, cruel.
"You bring your rebellion to the place of creation, Kael. Brave... but foolish."
The Sovereign stepped from behind the Forgeheart, cloaked in flames darker than night.
"I've been waiting for you."