"Not all things in the dark want to be freed. Some only want to be heard.
The air below Hollow Vale was too still.Ashen moved slowly, torch in hand, its flame flickering as if it feared where they were headed. Beside him, Riven carried a rune-stone lantern, and Lyra leaned against the cavern wall, pale, her steps unsteady.She hadn't been the same since she gave up the runes.They walked in silence, deeper into the winding tunnel that had opened beneath the ruined gate. Stone gave way to glass-like obsidian beneath their feet. Strange carvings lined the walls—glyphs not even Ashen could recognize.And above all else… came the whispers.Not in words. Not in any voice they knew.But in memory.Riven shivered.
"I don't like it here."Ashen said nothing.Because deep in his mind, something had begun to stir.And it was whispering his true name.
After hours of descent, the tunnel opened into a vast, cathedral-like chamber. Pillars of black stone rose like skeletal fingers, supporting an arched ceiling etched with flame-marks. The walls were lined with what looked like statues at first—But they were faces.Hundreds of them. Carved into the stone.All screaming.Lyra stumbled, catching herself on Ashen's arm.
"What… is this place?"He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked to one of the faces—a young woman, her eyes wide, mouth open in silent agony.
"She looks familiar," Lyra whispered.Ashen closed his eyes. And saw—
> A battle.
Lightborne knights.
A girl screaming as fire consumed her.Ashen… standing by, unable to help.He staggered back.These weren't carvings.They were trapped souls.
That night, while the others slept, Ashen sat alone by a dying torch.And the voice returned.But this time, it spoke.
> You do not know what you carry, Flamebearer.You think the Flame is a weapon. It is not.It is a prison.And you are its warden.Ashen gripped his temples, sweat running down his face.
"You opened the First Gate.
The second waits beneath the Hollow.Three must burn, and one must rise".Only then shall the Lock be broken.He shouted aloud,
"What do you want from me?!"
And in the silence that followed, the torch snuffed itself out.
They resumed their journey the next morning—but Lyra didn't get far.She collapsed mid-step, blood dripping from her nose, her skin fever-hot.Ashen caught her.
"She's burning up," he said. "But not with fire. With something else."
Riven's eyes widened. "The runes… they're returning."And they were.
Slowly, along her neck and arms, the faint glow of runes began to emerge once more.But this time… they pulsed in rhythm with something beneath them.Ashen knew the signs.The Second Gate was close and Lyra wasn't just a vessel—She was a beacon.
At the base of the descent lay a second vault. This one not sealed by metal—but by memory.To open it, one had to face themselves.
Ashen stepped through first—and vanished.He found himself standing in a ruined version of Eldermoor, fire consuming the sky. Dareth's corpse stared at him. Malric's voice whispered, You let us die.
Then he saw himself, standing across the courtyard, cloaked in shadow and flame.The mirror-Ashen raised a hand.And spoke: The fire was never the curse. It was the truth.
They fought.Steel against flame. Will against guilt.And when Ashen finally drove his blade through the reflection—The door opened.
He stumbled out, gasping, and the vault stood unlocked.They entered together.The chamber was circular, like the first. But colder. Deeper. At its center stood a black tree—dead, cracked, and burning from the inside out.Around its roots were bodies—dozens of them. All marked. All Flame-touched.All failed vessels.Riven turned away, trembling.
"Why would they leave this here?"Lyra stepped forward, her body glowing again.
"It's not left here. It's waiting."Ashen tried to stop her.
"Lyra—"Too late.The runes ignited.The tree awoke and the second gate opened.From the hollow beneath the burning tree, it rose—A creature of pure flame and bone, crowned in molten horns, wings made of ash and teeth.The Keeper of the Hollow Flame.It spoke not with voice—but with heat, pressing into their minds, making them fall to their knees.
"You bring the Flame back to me
I was the first Warden,I failed
Now you must burn in my place".Ashen rose, fire burning from his chest, sword drawn.
"You'll take nothing from her."The Keeper roared, and the room became hell.
The fight was brutal.The Keeper was faster,stronger and older.Ashen fought with everything he had—but it wasn't enough.Until Lyra—eyes glowing, body flickering between light and flame—stepped into the center of the gate.And offered herself.Ashen screamed, running to her.But Riven held him back.
"She's choosing. Like you did."Light exploded.The Keeper screamed.And then—silence.When it cleared, Lyra stood in the Keeper's place but she was no longer human.She was marked by fire—reborn,her eyes glowed gold.And her voice, when she spoke, was not only hers.
"Two gates remain. And the world is not ready."