The wind screamed across the plains as if trying to drive them back. Glass spires gave way to a vast open expanse where the earth was black and smooth, broken only by jagged fissures that bled faint heat.
Elara kept her cloak tight around her, the shard pressing warm against her palm inside the pouch. Since the battle with the ash creature, it hadn't stopped pulsing.
Kastor glanced over his shoulder as they walked. "You're sure the map's right?"
"It's alive," Serenya replied. "It can't be wrong. The real question is—" She stopped suddenly. "—what's waiting for us there."
The map led them toward a distant rise where the land cracked apart, forming a natural wall. At its base stood two massive doors of blackened steel, fused to the stone around them.
The Gate of Embers. The outer entrance to the Deep Vault.
But the doors were not sealed.
One hung crooked, torn from its hinge; the other was cracked down the middle, its surface scorched. Ash lay scattered in thick drifts, as though a storm had passed through and died here.
Kastor approached cautiously, sword ready. "This was supposed to be closed."
"It was," Serenya murmured, stepping forward to examine the scorch marks. "The wards are gone. Something… or someone… burned through them."
Elara's stomach tightened. "The Ashborn leader said something had walked through when we took the fire. Maybe this is where it went."
Serenya shook her head. "No. This feels older. Whatever broke this gate… it wasn't just following you, Elara. It was looking for something."
They entered the shadow of the broken gate. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of char and stone. The passage sloped downward into darkness, the walls streaked with veins of molten glass that glimmered faintly.
Kastor lit a torch, the flickering flame revealing old carvings along the walls. Warriors with crowned helms. Creatures of smoke and fire chained beneath mountains. A crown of jagged shards, its points dripping molten light.
"The Ash Crown," Serenya whispered. "It wasn't just a weapon. It was… a seal."
Elara touched one of the carvings — and the stone burned her skin. She yanked her hand back.
Serenya's gaze darkened. "It remembers."
They moved deeper, their footsteps echoing. Occasionally the walls would open into vast chambers, their ceilings lost in shadow. Ancient weapons lay scattered across the ground — blades warped, armor melted, all long abandoned.
At one point, they passed a skeleton fused into the wall, its mouth frozen in a silent scream.
Kastor muttered, "Comforting place."
The tunnel widened again, this time into a cavern lit by a strange pale glow. Dozens of crystalline growths jutted from the floor and ceiling, each humming faintly. Between them, a path led further down.
Elara stepped closer to one of the crystals. It pulsed when she approached, casting long shadows across the cavern. For an instant, she saw movement — a tall figure far down the path, watching them.
"Did you see—?" she began, but the figure was gone.
Serenya pulled her back. "Don't look too long. These crystals hold echoes — pieces of those who died here. If they notice you, they try to keep you."
"Keep us?" Kastor asked.
Serenya didn't answer. She simply kept walking.
The map's shifting lines eventually led them to a set of carved stone steps descending into another gate. This one was smaller but covered in intricate sigils.
Serenya stopped at the base of the steps. "This is the Oath Gate. We can't pass unless we speak the right vow."
Kastor glanced at her. "And if we don't?"
Her lips tightened. "The gate swallows us."
She traced the central sigil with her fingers, then began to chant in the old tongue — words that felt like ash on the air. The symbols glowed faintly, and the gate shuddered.
Then, from behind them, came the sound of footsteps.
Not echoes — real, heavy, deliberate steps.
Kastor spun around, torch raised. Out of the shadows emerged three figures, armor scorched black, their eyes glowing ember-red. Each carried a blade of molten metal.
The Legion of Cinders.
The lead soldier's voice was like grinding stone. "You've carried the shard far enough, girl. Give it to us, and perhaps we will let your bones remain intact."
Elara tightened her grip on the pouch. "You'll have to take it from me."
"Gladly," the soldier said — and they charged.
Kastor met them head-on, steel clashing with molten blades. Sparks and embers filled the air as he forced one back. Serenya unleashed a pulse of light that staggered another.
The leader came for Elara. His sword swung down, but the shard flared, forming a shield of white fire in her hand. The impact rang through her bones, but she stood her ground.
The leader hissed. "The shard is waking."
Before he could strike again, Serenya shouted something in the old tongue. The Oath Gate's symbols blazed, and a force pulled at them all — but it pulled the Legion harder, dragging them away from the steps.
With a final shove, Kastor threw one soldier into the glowing crystals. The hum turned into a scream as the crystal closed around him like ice.
The last of the Legion fell back, their leader snarling. "The fire will consume you from within, girl. And when it does… we will be waiting." Then they vanished into the shadows.
The Oath Gate opened with a low, grinding sound. Cold air poured out, carrying the scent of stone and something far older.
Serenya looked at Elara. "From here on, we're in the Vault proper. And whatever's inside… will know we're coming."
Elara stepped forward into the darkness. The shard pulsed once, as if eager.