In the highest shrine of Solaris, fire never dimmed. The flames curled upward in a constant spiral, never consuming wood nor stone, as though the air itself was fuel. The chamber throbbed with heat, every breath tasting of cinder.
Around the central pyre, the clergy knelt—dozens in crimson robes, their foreheads pressed against the ashen floor. Their chants rose and fell in rhythm, voices weaving into something beyond mortal, something Ashen himself twisted into harmony.
High Priest Malther lifted his head, sweat dripping down his face though his eyes glowed with rapture. Before the flame, he could almost see it: the silhouette of wings spread wide, a beak of fire, eyes like molten suns. His voice broke as he cried out, "Your will binds us, Eternal Wing! Your fire cleanses us!"
The priests echoed him in perfect chorus, their chants swelling until it seemed the very walls shook. Ash poured from the ceiling like smoke, coiling into patterns of feathers.
Malther remembered the first time he had heard Ashen's voice. It had not been a whisper—it had been command. A fire in his mind, branding his soul, promising him power if he would only kneel. He had not resisted. None of them had.
Now, as the flames brightened, the priests trembled with ecstasy. Some clawed their own skin, leaving trails of ash as if trying to carve the Savior's mark deeper into their flesh. Others wept openly, begging to be consumed entirely.
And then it came—a sound not of this world. A cry that was bird and storm and god all at once. It echoed through the shrine, bursting their eardrums, yet none screamed in pain. They screamed in worship.
"The chains hold. The faith burns. My wings shadow the city, and none escape."
The priests collapsed, writhing in bliss as the fire roared higher. Outside, citizens stopped in their tracks as the shrines across Solaris blazed in unison. Children pointed skyward at the phantom outline of wings stretching across the stars.
Malther pressed his face into the floor, his voice hoarse yet exultant. "We are yours, Ashen! Ever and ever!"
Above him, the fire curved, almost forming the body of a colossal bird. For a moment, the Divine Beast Phoenix seemed ready to step fully into the world. Then the flames folded inward, leaving only embers and silence.
But every priest felt it in their bones—Ashen was watching. And his hunger had not been sated.
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