POV: Ariya 📖🕯️🔥
The next chamber wasn't guarded by beasts or illusions — only silence.
Smooth black walls shimmered with lines of runes, untouched by time. At the far end stood a pedestal, no higher than her waist. Upon it rested a sealed book, bound in cracked red leather and sealed with molten gold threads.
Ariya stepped toward it, the others trailing behind her.
The air buzzed faintly. Not with danger, but with recognition.
The mark on her arm flared — not painfully, but with heat like a quiet welcome.
"It's hers," Ariya whispered. "It belonged to the First Flamebearer."
Kael scanned the chamber. "No traps?"
"None we can see," Lyra muttered.
Jax tilted his head. "What if the trap is emotional trauma?"
"Then we're already doomed," Lyra deadpanned.
Ariya reached out and broke the seal.
The book opened on its own — pages flipping with a wind that hadn't been there before. They stopped halfway through, landing on a thick page inked in ancient flame-script… and common tongue.
The words glowed faintly, like they had been waiting for centuries to be read again.
To the one who bears the last spark — if you are reading this, you are my blood.
And my burden.
*I was the first to bear the flame, not because I was worthy — but because I was desperate. The gods gave me power to stop the burning war… but I used it to win, not to heal.
And it changed me.
The longer I held the fire, the more it whispered. Not a voice — but hunger. It wanted more. More war. More blood. More control.
So I ran.
I gave up the throne. I erased my name. I swore my child would never be like me.
But fate is cruel.
The flame survives in you.
Ariya's hand trembled as she turned the page.
Beneath the final entry, a single line stood out — written not in fire, but in blood-red ink.
A prophecy.
When the Last Flame rises, the crown shall burn or bloom.One bearer. One blade.One choice that will break the world… or save it.
Silence.
Ariya closed the book slowly.
Kael's eyes never left her.
"It's always been you," he said quietly. "This power. This prophecy. It wasn't about a rebellion or a crown. It was about you."
Jax whistled softly. "No pressure, huh?"
Lyra looked between them. "What do we do with this?"
Ariya stared down at the journal.
"We don't run," she said. "We understand it. Control it. Decide what this flame becomes — not what they say it has to be."
The sword at her side pulsed in agreement.
And behind them, the chamber shifted — revealing a new path, lined with golden fire.
The final level of the sanctum.
"Looks like the mountain agrees," Jax said.
"Or wants to watch us struggle," Lyra muttered.
Kael offered his hand to Ariya.
"No matter what's ahead," he said, "you won't face it alone."
She took his hand.
"I never expected to be her," Ariya whispered. "The daughter of the First Flame. The one who might break the world."
"Then don't break it," Kael said. "Remake it."
Far beneath the earth, where no fire could burn and no light reached, the oldest part of the mountain stirred.
And deep within the citadel, Ruvan closed his eyes.
"She's found the prophecy," he murmured.
"Good," said the shadow behind him. "Let her come. Let her try."