Morning came slow and red. Ash drifted like snow outside the window, coating the city in a dull glow.
Jack blinked awake to the sound of metal striking metal. Kael was already up, sharpening his sword by the hearth. Lyra sat nearby, eyes closed, whispering quiet prayers under her breath. The light around her hands flickered weakly but steady—controlled, but fragile.
Jack stretched with a wince. His shoulder still burned from the night before. "So, how bad did I screw up yesterday?"
Kael didn't look up. "Half the lower market thinks you're a fire demon."
Jack groaned. "Awesome. First week in a new world and I'm already on wanted posters."
Lyra gave a small smile. "You're lucky to be alive."
Before Jack could reply, the door opened. Talon stepped in, carrying a tray with steaming bread and a jug of water. His clothes smelled faintly of smoke, his arms dusted with ash.
"Eat," he said simply. "You'll need your strength."
Jack nodded. "Thanks again—for saving us."
Talon shrugged. "Wasn't saving. Just didn't want the city guard poking around my street."
After breakfast, Talon guided them through Emberhold's narrow streets. The city was more alive than Jack expected. Lava flowed through channels beneath iron bridges, powering everything from lamps to water pumps.
"Varkon thrives on its forges," Talon said as they walked. "Every building here bleeds fire, every worker breathes it. We survive because we burn."
Jack stared at a group of smiths shaping blades with bare hands glowing red-hot. "Yeah, I can tell."
Talon chuckled. "Don't try that unless you want to lose your fingers."
They reached a large workshop at the end of the street. The air vibrated with heat. Inside, hammers clanged, and furnaces roared like beasts.
"This is my place," Talon said. "My father built it before the war with Aquelis. He's gone now, but his forge still stands."
Kael frowned. "War? You mean Varkon fought the Water Kingdom?"
Talon nodded. "Years ago. Fire and water never got along. We lost half our mines. Since then, we've been rebuilding—and watching everyone else, including Schiera."
Lyra's gaze sharpened. "You think we're enemies."
He shook his head. "I think kingdoms fear what they don't understand. That fear burns hotter than any forge."
Jack couldn't help noticing the sadness behind his words.
While they spoke, Talon rummaged through a crate and pulled out a small black shard, edges glowing faintly red.
"This," he said, holding it up, "was found near the northern ridge two nights ago. Look familiar?"
Lyra froze. The fragment pulsed with energy—and upon its surface was a faint engraving: the lily sigil of Schiera.
Kael stepped forward. "Impossible. That's our royal seal."
Talon nodded grimly. "Not the first I've found. Someone's been forging Schieran symbols onto Varkonian steel. It's spreading fast—every mercenary band has one."
Jack felt a chill crawl up his spine despite the heat. "Someone's trying to start a war."
Talon placed the fragment on the table. "Exactly. And if the Fire King believes Schiera's behind it, this city will burn before sunrise."
Lyra's voice trembled. "My parents' deaths… this could be connected."
Talon looked at her carefully. "Then you came to the right place. I know someone who might help you trace the source—if he's still alive."
"Who?" Jack asked.
"The man who forged the first of these fragments. My father's apprentice."
Before they left, Talon motioned for Jack to follow him to the back of the forge. The room glowed red from molten metal.
"I saw what you did yesterday," Talon said quietly. "The fire bent around you. That shouldn't happen."
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm still trying to figure that part out."
Talon handed him a lump of cooled ore. "Focus on it. Let the fire answer you again."
Jack hesitated. "I don't even know how I did it before."
"Then don't think," Talon said. "Feel."
Jack exhaled and closed his eyes. The hum of the forge filled his ears. Slowly, warmth spread through his body, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
The ore began to glow—first faintly, then brighter, until thin trails of flame curled around it.
Talon's eyes widened. "You're drawing heat from the air itself."
Jack opened his hand, startled. The ore was glowing bright red, molten, but his palm was untouched.
"I didn't even feel it," he said softly.
"Because it's not hurting you," Talon replied. "It's recognizing you."
Lyra entered quietly behind them, her light flickering faintly. "The Vein of Fire… it accepts him."
Talon looked between them. "Then maybe the world really is changing."
That night, they returned to the inn. Lyra sat by the window, gazing at the red horizon. "If these forged sigils spread, both kingdoms will fall into war."
Jack clenched his fists. "Then we stop it before it starts."
Kael shook his head. "You don't stop a war with words. You stop it by cutting off the hand that holds the match."
Lyra looked down. "Then we find that hand."
Outside, the volcano rumbled. Sparks fell from the sky like shooting stars.
Talon stood at the doorway, his voice low. "We leave at dawn. The forge master's apprentice hides near the Ash Canyons. If he's still alive, he'll tell us who's making those fragments."
Jack nodded. "Then tomorrow, we hunt for answers."
Lyra's eyes glowed faintly, the reflection of fire and sorrow mixing into one.
She whispered, almost to herself, "Fire reveals truth… even when it burns."
And somewhere deep within the heart of Varkon, the flames roared louder, as if waiting for them.