The wind that swept through the ruins was cold and dry, carrying the weight of memories and whispered warnings. As Lina slept under the stars that night, the fire at the center of their camp dwindled to embers. Yet even in sleep, her flame stirred, uneasy.
That was when she saw her.
A woman with feathers of white and gold stood on a battlefield of ash, her wings broken, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"Lina," the woman said softly, "you walk the path I once did."
"Who… are you?" Lina whispered in the dream.
"I am Sereya, First Flame. The one who bore the Phoenix Mark before the world forgot what we were." She stepped closer, her form wavering between fire and shadow. "The Heart of the Flame is real. But so is the cost of touching it. Many tried, none returned whole."
Lina reached toward her, but her hand passed through empty air.
"Where do I find it?"
Sereya turned, revealing a wound torn through her chest. "In the Sanctum of Echoes, where the voices of the fallen cry to be remembered. But beware, young flame—memory is a double-edged fire. Some truths will burn."
And then the dream shattered.
---
Lina woke with a gasp.
Kael was already awake, standing with Nyra at the edge of the ruins. His sword was drawn.
"What is it?" Lina stood, instantly alert.
"Scouts," Nyra said. "Void-touched. They've caught our trail."
She pointed toward the valley below.
Moving like shadows through the scorched landscape were figures in black, armor like scales, eyes glowing faintly violet. Not men. Not anymore.
"They're hunting you," Kael said grimly.
Lina's hands sparked to life, gold fire racing along her skin. "Then let them come."
---
The battle was swift and brutal.
Lina moved like a living flame, her every step igniting the ground. She summoned whips of golden fire, tearing through the corrupted soldiers. But these weren't mindless husks—they moved with coordination, with intention. As though something—someone—was guiding them.
From atop a ridge, a cloaked figure watched her.
His presence was suffocating. Void radiated from him in waves. And when his hood fell back, Lina gasped.
A man—young, maybe no older than Kael—stood with eyes as dark as the Void itself. His hair was silver, his skin pale, but his presence was terrifying.
"You're the Phoenix," he said softly. "I thought you'd be taller."
"Who are you?" she demanded, fire coiling protectively around her.
"I am Valen, Hand of the Sovereign. And I'm here to deliver a message."
Kael moved to stand in front of her, but Lina stepped forward.
"I don't take messages from shadows."
Valen smiled. "The Sovereign says this: You are not the first Phoenix, and you will not be the last. But you are the weakest."
Then, with a flick of his hand, he vanished—leaving only scorched earth and the stench of sulfur behind.
---
That night, as they buried the dead and bandaged their wounds, Lina sat silently beside the fire.
"He's testing me," she said. "Trying to shake me."
"He fears you," Nyra replied. "Or he wouldn't send a Hand."
"Then let him fear," Lina said, standing. "Because I will burn down every last shadow he's ever cast."
Kael met her gaze. "What now?"
"We head to the Sanctum of Echoes," Lina answered. "Sereya said it holds the key to the Heart of the Flame. If we're going to end this war, we need more than just fire. We need our forgotten truth."
And so, at dawn, they left the ashes of the Ember Kingdom behind, carrying with them a flame that refused to die—and the whispers of those who came before.