Chapter 5: The Black Pyre Calls
The trench trembled—not from weight, but from memory.
It began as a pulse beneath the Codex roots. A silent breath exhaled from a world long buried, as if the Womb itself stirred. In the heart of EchoWomb, surrounded by hybrid-blooded stone and glistening Codex vines, the Black Pyre ignited.
The flame did not flicker. It did not spread.
It simply existed—black, motionless, and alive.
Kael stood at its edge, breath slow. Serrin beside him, quiet.
"You did this?" Serrin asked.
Kael shook his head. "No. It remembered me. That's different."
The Codex chimes sang from the walls, low and layered, each tone a memory reborn. Serrin's eyes scanned the glyphlight—ancient battle footage, bursts of blood-pulse from past trials. Failed thrones. Lost flames.
The Black Pyre was calling not just to Kael.
It was calling to all of them.
Arrival I: Obsidian Legion
The first to answer was Maelith.
The jungle bowed as her kin marched in. Three thousand strong. Armor of scale and ash. Blades not drawn—but humming with intent. At her side, Vice-Captain Vhorr Krael and Lieutenant Rynsha Pyrefang flanked her like living pylons of war.
Maelith did not speak. She placed her clawed hand over the Pyre's reflection and let the Codex chime.
*"Ashdrift stands. The Obsidian Flame walks beside the Bastard."
Cheers from her kin. A rhythm chanted:
"Ashdrift! Ashdrift! Burn the old, birth the true!"
Kael nodded toward her. Maelith gave a nod back, minimal, respectful—but her eyes remained sharp.
Arrival II: Riftwings
The sky vanished.
A cry cut through the clouds, and the world turned to shadow. The Riftwings had arrived.
Fifteen hundred strong. Wings spread, Cryth-Wing blood burning through their veins. At their lead—Threnyx Vaelspire, the Hollow Wing.
He landed alone.
Behind him descended Korynth Shalevein and Vaeryn Skeldr, cutting downward like feathers sharpened to kill.
Threnyx approached the Pyre, but did not bow.
*"We descend to witness, not to kneel. Flame does not own sky."
Murmurs. Ironwrought crossed his arms. VyrmClaw's weapon shifted shapes, reactive.
Kael stepped forward—but Serrin stopped him with a hand.
"Not yet. Let them see."
Arrival III: Ashguard and Ironwrought
From the trench walls came the storm of march. Shields. Tremors. Magnetized banners.
Ironmark's Ashguard arrived first. Bront Veil and Harrex already mid-positioning their platoons.
Behind them came the quake-walkers—the Ironwrought Kin, led by Ironwrought himself. His vice, Draeven Pyrr, bore the iron-jaw sigil. Krask Binderjaw dragged Warden-spike remains behind him, silent.
No chants. Just stomps. Discipline breathing.
Draeven to Krask: "If they can't stand the heat, they shouldn't have followed a flame."
Arrival IV: The Veiled
There was no arrival.
Just a ripple in the light, and suddenly Whisper-Vow stood beside Kael.
"We never left."
Shai-Varn and Veck emerged moments later. One from shadow. One from ceiling.
*"The Veiled observe. The Veiled remember."
Codex chimes blue.
Arrival V: First Talons
Black-armed, scar-marked, the First Talons arrived in formation. VyrmClaw at the center, weapon semi-living and pulsing.
At his flanks: Zhaer Kryndross—hawk-eyed railstriker. And Rythis Vaarn, the walking grave-plate.
They did not speak. But the Codex did. Black-gold.
*"First to follow. First to burn."
Their kin roared:
*"Talons bared! Memory spared! Death is mercy! Doubt is not!"
Arrival VI: Thal'khaar / Brinevein
The ground hissed.
Then water.
Then coral.
Thyrn emerged from the trench vent. The Thal'khaar rode in on Gravemaws, coral-armored, eyes cold.
With him: Varka, beast-mounted sentinel.
And beside them, quiet and watching—Raazhk.
"The sea remembers. So do we."
Kael stepped forward again.
"Raazhk."
"Womb-burner," Raazhk replied.
"You brought the flame. We'll bring the tide."