Episode 12
The cave walls pulsed faintly in response to Kael's breath, alive with ancient memory. He pressed a trembling hand against the mural—the one showing the Firstborn halting a war with nothing but a gesture. The memory wasn't just a vision anymore. It felt carved into his bones.
Behind him, Lira and Elira waited in silence.
"You said I'm not him," Kael said slowly. "Only his echo."
Elira nodded. "His soul was torn apart in the cataclysm. But fragments of it were bound to the Gates. To the flame. You are the last fragment—reborn when Eltherion needed him most."
Kael stepped back. "Then what am I supposed to do? Fight a war that ended centuries ago? Stand against the Flameborn alone?"
"You are not alone," Lira said, her voice strong beside him. "You never were."
Elira turned to a side wall—this one depicting a great black tree with roots made of fire. "This war was never truly over. The Flameborn silenced history, but the Void has not forgotten. And now, it stirs again."
She looked at him. "Kael, the truth isn't just power. It's a weapon. And if you don't master it first, others will."
Kael's voice was flat. "Then tell me everything. No more riddles."
Elira gave a small nod. "Then follow me. There is a place deep beneath the Vale—a forge older than the Flameborn citadel. There, the Firstborn once left behind his final memory."
---
The Descent — The Ember Root
They descended through a spiraling tunnel carved by lava long cooled. The path was narrow, lit by Kael's glowing shard and Elira's faint magic. The air thickened with every step, as though time itself pressed in around them.
"How did you survive down here?" Kael asked.
Elira smiled faintly. "I didn't. Not all of me."
Kael stared at her, but she said nothing more.
At the base of the spiral, they emerged into a cavern vast enough to hold a mountain. At its center stood a forge—not of stone, but of pure flame, flickering in shapes that constantly shifted: a sword, a heart, a shattered star.
Kael stepped toward it. "This was his?"
Elira nodded. "The Flameheart Forge. It answered only to him."
Kael reached out—and the flame roared alive, answering his touch.
Images exploded in his mind.
—A man standing alone in a battlefield of ash, eyes glowing like molten gold.
—A child torn from his mother's arms by robed figures.
—A tower crumbling beneath a sky of black fire.
And then—one final image.
A vault. A sealed gate hidden beneath the Flameborn archives.
Kael staggered back, chest heaving.
"What did you see?" Lira asked.
"A vault," he gasped. "They've been hiding something—beneath Ember Bastion."
Elira's expression darkened. "Then it's time you returned home."
---
Above — Ember Bastion (Midnight)
Back in the citadel, Varon stood before the High Council, eyes hard.
"You let him leave. And now the Vale stirs."
One of the Elders—silver-robed, face like stone—leaned forward. "We judged as the Law demands. His exile was mercy."
"Mercy is weakness," Varon hissed. "He carries the shard. He saw the Gate."
Another Elder frowned. "The Vault remains sealed."
Varon's smile was cold. "Not for long."
---
Back in the Hollow Vale
Kael stood at the edge of the cavern, fingers glowing with flame.
"I need to go back."
Lira stepped beside him. "Then I'm going with you."
Elira handed him something wrapped in dark cloth. "Then take this. A weapon forged by the Firstborn—meant only for his echo."
Kael unwrapped it.
A blade of black fire, humming softly. It pulsed with his heartbeat.
"What's it called?" he asked.
"Ashmourne," Elira said. "Forged from memory, tempered in pain. It answers only to truth."
Kael sheathed it across his back. "Then it's time the Flameborn learned the truth they buried."
---
Elsewhere — The Shadows Gather
Far away, beyond the Vale and the Bastion, in a realm untouched by flame, something woke.
A creature cloaked in smoke and whisper, its body shifting with the void.
Eyes opened—eight in all.
"The Echo walks," it rasped. "And the Balance shatters again."
Behind it, thousands of eyes blinked in the dark.
The war was returning.
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