The wind over the Ashen Reach tasted of iron and ash. Smoke curled on the distant horizon, and the sky was a bruised shade of violet, stretched thin with dread. Kael stood at the edge of a burnt ridge, the dying sun at his back, watching as the remnants of their last battle were buried under drifting black sand.
The Reaper Gate was gone—shattered by flame and sigil, sealed with blood. But even in its absence, the corruption lingered.
"Three more," Kael muttered, fingers brushing the edge of his bracer.
Behind him, the newly formed alliance camp was still buzzing. Virelian soldiers and Flamebound warriors shared uneasy fires. Amaris sat cross-legged beneath a twisted stone outcrop, her silver eyes closed, floating inches above the ground as glowing sigil script turned around her head like a halo. Lyra was sharpening her daggers nearby, always watching.
Kael approached.
"She hasn't spoken in hours," Lyra said without looking up. "Not even to me."
"She's still tethered to the Forlorn," Kael replied. "Even unchained, she carries their echoes."
"Then we watch her," Lyra said, slipping a dagger into its sheath. "Closely."
He nodded, then walked toward the command tent, where General Kaedric of Virelia waited. Maps were strewn across a war table, their edges held down with empty mugs and broken bits of rock. A red circle marked their current position, and three more were scrawled across the realm like bruises: Shardmere, the Verdant Abyss, and Hollowfen.
"All scouts report movement in the east," Kaedric said as Kael entered. "Shardmere's garrison hasn't responded to our riders. We fear it's already fallen."
Kael leaned over the table, eyes scanning the terrain. "Then it's next."
Kaedric frowned. "It's a fortress, not a town. Stone walls, enchanted towers, supplied for a siege. If the steward took it, he intends to hold it."
"He won't," Kael said. "We'll break him out of it."
---
The march to Shardmere was grueling. The land seemed poisoned, the very soil sick beneath their boots. Once-green fields had turned gray. Rivers ran sluggish and dark. Birds had fled the sky.
Along the way, they passed villages that had been emptied—some peacefully abandoned, others clearly not. Charred homes, shattered doors, blood on the walls. Kael said little, but every ruin carved something deeper into his resolve.
On the fourth night, they camped near an abandoned mill. Kael couldn't sleep. The Sigil burned faintly in his palm, restless, as if it too could sense what lay ahead.
He found Amaris alone by the creek.
"I see you still don't sleep either," he said quietly.
She looked up, the glow in her eyes dim tonight. "Dreams are less kind than waking."
Kael sat beside her, staring into the dark water. "What did the steward do to you?"
Her jaw tensed. "He reached inside my soul. Unraveled memories. Buried truths. I barely remembered my name when you found me."
"Why you?"
"Because I resisted." Her voice was bitter. "The Sigil chose me, but I refused to wield it for him. So he bound me instead, used me to stabilize one of his earliest rifts. I was a living anchor."
Kael looked at her, understanding blooming like fire behind his ribs. "He's not just opening the gates. He's using us to do it."
Amaris nodded. "We're keys, Kael. Each bearer is a door, and if he gathers us—or kills us—the veil won't just tear. It'll collapse."
---
By dawn, they reached the cliffs above Shardmere.
What once had been a proud bastion of silver stone and crystal towers now bled shadow. A massive rift had opened over its main courtyard—another Reaper Gate, thrumming with unnatural energy. Shapes moved in its glow. The fortress's own sentries now walked as husks, their armor blackened, their eyes hollow.
Kael clenched his fists. "He's corrupted the stronghold."
Lyra adjusted her blades. "We'll need a siege."
"No," Amaris said, eyes fixed on the pulsing rift. "We need a strike team. Small. Precise. If we destroy the gate inside, we cripple his hold."
Kaedric joined them, grim. "A frontal assault draws attention. You get in. We break the walls as distraction."
Kael nodded. "Then we move at dusk."
---
The strike team crept in through an old waterway, crawling through stagnant sludge and into the fortress underbelly. Kael led, torchlight flickering off the damp stone.
Above, battle cries erupted. The Virelian army clashed with corrupted defenders, steel ringing in the night.
They emerged into the heart of the fortress.
The rift hovered above the keep's broken tower, supported by twisted pylons and arcane anchors. And beneath it, on a dais of bone and glass, stood a man draped in black.
The steward himself.
Kael froze.
So did the others.
The steward turned, his face half-shadowed, the other half marked with sigil scars. "Ah," he said softly, "the prodigal flame."
Kael stepped forward. "End this."
The steward tilted his head. "Why would I end what's already begun?"
Amaris raised her hands, chains forming. "You used me. Broke me."
"I unshackled you," the steward replied. "Your kind were never meant to serve kings and courts. We are meant to burn."
A pulse of shadow burst from him.
Kael blocked it with flame. The others scattered.
The fight began.
Lyra vanished into smoke, blades flashing. Amaris flung chains like spears. Kael danced with the steward, fire clashing against darkness.
They fought across the shattered hall. Stone crumbled. Sigils burst.
The steward was strong—too strong. Every strike he took, he gave back tenfold.
"You don't understand what's coming," he snarled, casting Kael back into a wall. "The veil isn't a wall—it's a prison. And we were never meant to be locked away from what waits beyond."
Kael rose, blood in his mouth. "I've seen what waits. And I'd rather burn than let it in."
Amaris screamed.
Chains lashed out.
They bound the steward's legs.
Kael surged forward.
Flame ignited.
He struck the rift.
It shattered like glass.
The steward roared, consumed in light.
---
When Kael awoke, he lay on the broken floor, the fortress in ruins. Lyra knelt over him, face bloodied.
"He's gone," she said. "For now."
Kael sat up. "Amaris?"
She stood nearby, eyes closed, hands shaking.
"It's sealed," she whispered. "But not for long. He'll open another."
Kael looked at the horizon.
Two gates remained.
And time was running out.