❖❖❖
They rode through dust and dying light, Kaen and Mira alone, into the heart of the Deadlands — where even fire forgot how to burn.
The Obsidian Spire rose from the cracked earth like a dagger through the sky.
No birds.
No wind.
Only silence, and the crunch of their boots against black glass.
Kaen looked to Mira.
"You don't have to do this."
She touched her pendant. "I do. I have to know why they see me as Ashara."
"Because they're wrong."
She turned to him.
"What if they're not?"
❖❖❖
The Spire doors opened before them — not by force, but as if welcoming them.
Inside, shadows coiled like snakes of smoke.
The walls were scorched with ancient flame sigils, their glow faint, pulsing like breath.
As they descended the spiral stair, they saw faces in the stone — twisted expressions of pain, trapped in obsidian.
Mira whispered, "These are… souls. Burned alive."
Kaen held her hand tighter.
Below, a circle of fire awaited.
And nine figures stepped forward.
The Flamelords.
Sorek the Tyrant Flame – leader of the Phoenix Order.
Vasha of the Shrieking Pyre – her mouth sewn shut, her scream never-ending.
Riven Hollowheart – once a priest, now a flame-mad prophet.
Thorn of Blightfire – fused with metal, cursed with sentient armor.
Elarin the Ember-Mother – a fireborn who once raised orphans in the Ash Isles.
Gorran the Scorchbeast – covered in magma-scale, half-man, half-monster.
Myrrh the Mirrorflame – she could become anyone, even Mira.
Ash-Kyn, the Hushed Cinder – spoke only in sparks.
Vhalion, Lord of Red Silence – the one who watched them from afar.
Each one radiated power… and ancient pain.
Vhalion spoke first.
"Daughter of flame. Do you know why we called you?"
Mira took a step forward. "Because you believe I'm Ashara."
Riven laughed like breaking glass. "Not believe, child. Know."
Sorek pointed at her pendant.
"The mark you bear… belonged to her. The First Flame. The One Who Chose the Sky."
Kaen stepped between them. "That's Mira. Not your goddess. Not your weapon."
Vasha let out a muffled scream — the flames on the walls flared.
Myrrh stepped forward, her body reshaping into a perfect replica of Mira.
"Perhaps she's not. But the fire remembers."
Then the truth was revealed.
Centuries ago, before kingdoms, before orders, before even the Ashen Blades — there was Ashara the Flameheart.
A mortal who was reborn as the first to wield living Soulfire.
She taught peace, balance, flame as harmony.
But others twisted her teachings. Made her into a goddess of wrath.
When she vanished, she left her soul's echo behind — the Cinderborn.
Reincarnated again and again.
Each time growing weaker.
Until now.
Until Mira.
"Your dreams weren't dreams," Vhalion said. "They were memories."
Mira trembled. "That can't be."
"But it is," said Sorek. "You are Ashara's final breath. Her last ember. Let us reignite the world."
Kaen drew Emberfang.
"No."
Mira shook. "If this is true… I'm not ready."
Elarin stepped close, gentler than the others.
"You already are. You passed the Flamegate. You silenced the Hollow King. You survived the Mirrorflame. Ashara lives through you. Don't deny your flame."
Suddenly—
The ground shook.
The Spire trembled.
Kaen spun, eyes wide. "That's not me."
From the cracked sky above the spire…
Came the real threat.
The sky tore open like paper.
From it descended a chained colossus, wrapped in black flames — its face a shifting void, its voice a thousand screams.
"I… remember… the Ashara…"
The Cinder Devourer.
A myth.
A soul-consuming being that had once hunted Ashara across lifetimes.
Drawn by Mira's awakening.
Kaen shouted, "Everyone, outside!"
But the Flamelords stood their ground.
Vhalion turned to Mira. "Now is the time. Claim your truth."
Mira screamed—
And her eyes burst into flame.
The room shattered in firelight.
Mira rose into the air, her body crackling with violet-gold Soulfire.
The Devourer roared, chains ripping through the air.
Kaen leapt forward, slicing one chain mid-flight.
Sorek, Riven, and Gorran unleashed a combined wave of fire — but it wasn't enough.
The creature devoured flame like breath.
Only Mira's flame hurt it.
She raised her hands.
Her voice echoed with another's voice layered inside it:
"I am not your goddess. I am not your weapon. I… am Mira Ashara Flameheart!"
She unleashed her true Soulfire.
Not of rage.
Not of destruction.
But of memory, love, and rebirth.
The Devourer screamed, its form cracking—
And exploded into ash.
Silence fell.
Smoke curled toward the stars.
Mira collapsed.
Kaen caught her before she hit the ground.
Her breath slow, her heart steady.
Sorek knelt before her.
"Forgive us, Ashara. Or Mira. Or whoever you are now. You are no longer ours to follow. You are ours to protect."
Kaen looked at Mira.
"Do you want to rule them?"
She smiled faintly.
"No. I want to save them."
❖❖❖
Far away, in a floating citadel of black sunstone…
A voice not heard in a thousand years whispered to itself.
"The last ember burns too brightly."
And the sky… began to crack again.
✴️ END OF CHAPTER 7