Chapter Three:
The Hymn of Broken Thrones
The sky cracked—not with thunder, but with silence. A silence so loud, it fractured the dome above the world.
Kael-Mirath stood barefoot on obsidian soil, ash swirling like ink in water. Above him, thirteen pale moons drifted unnaturally close, aligned in a serpentine spiral. The visions came not in flashes, but in long, haunting laments—echoes of tomorrows yet to come.
The Third Eye on his brow bled rivulets of dark ichor, scribing runes in the air before fading into fractal snow. This was not dream, nor was it memory. It was the bleeding edge of time itself, frayed by prophecy and pushed forward by rebellion.
---
The Hall of Null Crowns
Deep beneath the ruined Citadel of Veilwind, the Hall of Null Crowns stirred to life for the first time in six hundred cycles. Twelve thrones of ancient sovereigns hovered in suspension, each crown fused into the aetheric void like a burnt offering. Each throne hummed with its own betrayal.
Soriel entered with the grace of a dusk hawk, his cloak heavy with war-mist. His voice broke the ancient silence:
"I seek counsel with the Rememberer."
From the darkness rose a shifting prism of eyes and memories—Vraxos, the Sentient Archive of Fallen Kings. Its voice was a weave of voices, each a memory dredged from dying minds:
"You seek knowledge, but have brought no song. This chamber opens only for blood and burden."
Soriel, once a blade-dancer of the Eastern Reach, now bore the marks of exile. With a quiet sigh, he drew a thin blade across his palm and sang—not with his voice, but with his wound. A lullaby of loss. The melody was short, bitter, and full of memory. The Hall trembled. The thrones wept silver.
Vraxos pulsed.
"Access granted."
From the aether, a singular word materialized: Elarion—the name of the lost city swallowed by time and song.
---
The Memory Forge of Miraen
Miraen had always known she was more than human. Her dreams were older than language, her pain not her own.
In the heart of the Library of Bone, she stood before the Oracle Loom—a living machine of glass tendons and starlight sinew. It pulled her memory from her veins, thread by thread, and showed her a vision:
A girl standing at the Gate of Choirkeepers, weeping black flame, holding the Book of First Names. That girl was her. But she had forgotten.
"I remember now," she whispered. "I was a Watcher of the Flame. I betrayed the First Choir."
Her hands burned as the knowledge returned. The Choir was not dead. Merely buried beneath time. And they were waking.
---
Kael-Mirath and the First Flame
In a garden of crystallized breath, Kael saw it: the First Flame—not a fire, but a being. It pulsed like a heart, golden and pure. But something approached it—a child made of stardust and sorrow. A fallen construct of light and regret. The child reached into the Flame and swallowed it.
The world darkened.
From the Testament, another stanza appeared, invisible ink burning into the page:
"When thirteen moons howl from one sky, The Flamebearer must choose: To rise as Dawn's Betrayer, Or sleep beneath the Ashes of Ages."
Kael collapsed. The vision ended. But the choice loomed.
---
Politics of the End
In the city-state of Delyssar, the Council of Seven began purging flameborn bloodlines. Fear spread like plague. Miraen became a fugitive. Soriel was declared a heretic. Kael's name was etched onto the Pillar of Exile—a public mark of doom.
Meanwhile, in secret chambers, the CIFERIAN Order rejoiced.
"The moons align," said their High Seer. "The boy sees. The Choir stirs. And the Throne of Ember shall soon be empty. All is according to the Hymn."
The rebirth of the world was not foretold—it was designed.
And Kael-Mirath had just stepped onto the stage of ruin.
---
End of Chapter Three
Next: Chapter Four – The Oracle's Teeth and the Song of Wolves
Highlights:
Kael-Mirath's cryptic visions intensify—his mind branded by starfire and betrayal.
Miraen uncovers a forgotten identity tied to the lost Choirkeepers.
Soriel faces a moral compromise in the Hall of Null Crowns.
The Testament's hidden stanza adds dread and weight to the Flamebearer's path.