The staircase descended forever.
It coiled like a serpent into the heart of the world, each step carved from smooth black stone that pulsed faintly with emberlight. Duncan's boots echoed softly, but there was no wind, no sound beyond his breath and the slow throb of his heartbeat.
Around him, the air shimmered—not with heat, but with memory.
Visions flickered at the edges of the torchless light. Soldiers in unfamiliar armor marching through fire. Great beasts kneeling before ancient flames. A child, cradled in the arms of a figure wrapped in burning cloth, whispering lullabies in a language Duncan didn't recognize… but somehow understood.
Each step forward unraveled another thread of the past.
And the deeper he went, the heavier the blade at his side became.
Hall of Echoes
The staircase ended at a great circular chamber, vast enough to house a city.
Its ceiling arched high overhead, lost in shadows that danced like living smoke. Dozens of massive pillars ringed the walls, each etched with spiral runes. At the center burned a flame—not tall, not fierce, but steady. Quiet. Ancient.
This was no forgefire.
This was the First Flame.
And in its glow stood a single figure.
He was tall, robed in cracked silver and scorched red. His skin shimmered like obsidian glass, and his eyes were twin suns—too bright to look at, yet impossible to turn away from. The Emberblade pulsed at Duncan's side, vibrating with heat and recognition.
"Welcome," the figure said. His voice echoed in the stone, like a chime struck beneath the earth.
Duncan didn't draw his blade.
Not yet.
"Who are you?"
The figure smiled, and the flame behind him flared.
"I am what remains of the Flamefather. The first to bind beast and man. The first to teach fire to remember."
Bloodline of the Betrayed
The Flamefather extended a hand toward the flame, and it swirled, revealing images within:
A warrior standing atop a battlefield of scales and steel, blood dripping from a lance carved of fire.
A boy held aloft before a council of robed flamebearers.
A symbol—twisting spirals overlapping, identical to the disc Duncan now carried.
"You are his blood," the Flamefather said softly. "The last of the fifth line. The one forgotten by oath and name. The last heir… of the Covenant."
Duncan's breath caught.
"My family…?"
"Your grandfather sealed the Third Gate. Your father tried to break it. Both failed to understand its truth."
The image shifted to show a man—lean, grim, flame in his eyes, despair on his face—striking a gate with a blade identical to Duncan's.
"Your father sought power. You seek understanding."
"And you?" Duncan asked. "What do you want?"
The Flamefather tilted his head.
"I want remembrance. Before it's all erased again."
The Pact of Fire
The Flamefather walked around the flame slowly, and with each step, another pillar lit.
"These gates were not meant to keep evil out," he said. "They were built to lock something in—our failure."
Images swirled in the air—beasts mutated by flame, soldiers weeping as memory was torn from their minds, and a great chasm where the sky itself bled light.
"We thought binding the Flame would save us," he continued. "But flame cannot be chained. It burns. Always."
Duncan felt the truth in his bones. The Dominion hadn't sealed the gates to protect the world.
They'd done it to hide what they had done to it.
"To remember," the Flamefather whispered, "is to face the sins that built your kingdom."
The Prisoner Beneath
Suddenly, the chamber quaked.
The flame flickered.
A low, grinding roar echoed from below—something stirring beneath even this place.
The Flamefather looked down. For the first time, he looked afraid.
"It wakes."
"What?" Duncan asked, hand going to the hilt of his blade.
"The first beast. The one we could not tame. Not with steel. Not with fire. Not with time."
From beneath the central flame, cracks began to appear—runes fracturing, smoke pouring from the seams.
"The last gate was never just a seal," the Flamefather whispered. "It was a prison."
And now, it was breaking.
Inheritance of Flame
The Emberblade burst into fire, unbidden.
Duncan staggered, the heat overwhelming.
Visions poured into him—memories of beasts walking as kings, of men kneeling in the dust, of fire once revered, now feared.
He dropped to one knee.
The Flamefather knelt beside him, pressing a burning hand to Duncan's chest.
"You are not here to kill it. You are here to bind it. One last time."
"How?" Duncan gasped. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Remember."
And with that, the Flamefather dissolved into ash.
The flame roared.
And the floor cracked open.
From below, something ancient rose… a creature of smoke and bone, eyes burning with forgotten stars.