Smoke curled across the skies above the Emberwilds. Birds fled in flocks. Trees wilted before the heat.
From the east, the Ash Guard marched.
They were not men anymore—not entirely. Cloaked in obsidian armor etched with runes of submission, they moved as one, their footsteps silent despite the weight of their blackened blades. At their head rode Commander Varyn, the silver-haired warrior whose soul had long been consumed by Queen Virelya's dark flame.
Behind his helm, his eyes flickered like twin furnaces.
He did not need to speak. His men did not need orders.
Their purpose was singular:
Destroy the heirs. Reclaim the Flameheart. Leave nothing but ash.
—
Within the Flameheart Bastion, Kael, Serenya, and Selira stood in silence before the now-quiet sword. Though the chamber had calmed, an unease had settled among them like smoke that wouldn't clear.
"It accepted us," Kael said, sliding the sword into its scabbard on his back. "But this isn't over."
"No," Selira said, listening intently. "We're being watched."
Serenya turned sharply. "What?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "She knows."
They ascended from the depths of the Bastion just as a tremor rippled through the earth. The ground cracked. Birds scattered. In the distance, a black cloud rose—not of nature, but of approaching war.
Selira climbed to the outer ledge and raised her spyglass. She went still. "They're coming. A whole legion. Ash Guard. Varyn leads them."
Kael cursed. "We can't fight them here. The Bastion may be sacred, but it's also a tomb. We'll be trapped."
Serenya looked back at the relic chamber. "There must be something in the Bastion we can use. Some kind of escape passage or—"
"No time," Selira snapped. "We make for the ember cliffs. The winds there might mask our trail."
Kael hesitated, looking toward the entrance. "If we leave… we lose the Bastion."
"Better that than die here with it," Selira said grimly.
But before they could move, a figure stepped out of the shadows.
Old. Hooded. Robes of scorched red.
Eyes like dying stars.
"You cannot run from what the flame has claimed."
The trio drew weapons instantly.
"Who are you?" Serenya asked, her flame dancing at her fingers.
The old man raised his hands. "I am Vaelorn, last Keeper of the Bastion. Bound by flame to guide the worthy… or witness their fall."
Kael didn't lower his sword. "We're listening."
Vaelorn looked at each of them, gaze heavy with the weight of years. "She has unleashed Varyn. The Flameheart's light has stirred the old blood in the queen's veins. She will not stop now."
"Then tell us how to stop her," Kael said.
Vaelorn stepped aside, revealing a hidden stairway behind one of the statues. "There is a path. One only the Flamebound may walk. It will lead you out—through the ember veins and into the Spires."
He turned, holding out a scorched pendant bearing the triple flame. "Take this. It will mark you as rightful bearers. But beware—the closer you draw to the throne, the more it will burn."
Kael accepted the pendant, nodding once. "Thank you."
Vaelorn smiled faintly. "Do not thank me yet. The Ash Guard cannot be outrun forever."
He vanished into smoke before they could ask more.
—
As they descended the hidden stairway, fire lit the Bastion's upper halls.
Varyn had arrived.
He stood at the gates, his sword drawn, staring into the darkness of the stone walls. Behind him, the Ash Guard formed ranks—silent, perfect.
He raised one hand, and with a low command:
"Burn it."
Flame erupted across the Bastion's stone skin.
But below, hidden beneath the very fire that sought to consume them, the three heirs vanished into the earth's veins—guided by old paths, toward the next chapter of their fate.
And above, the ancient stronghold that had waited centuries to awaken...
was consumed in ash.