The stars above Hell were dying.
They blinked out one by one, like candles smothered by an unseen wind. Only Lina noticed. The others in the underworld saw flame and ruin, chaos and power—but she, the bearer of the First Flame, felt the silence growing across the realms.
Andra sat upon the black throne beside hers, fingers laced, claws tapping slowly. His gaze was fixed on the shadows stretching along the walls of their palace—shadows that didn't belong.
She could feel it too.
Apresence.
No enemy dared challenge her now. No demon whispered rebellion. Even the ancient ones, the devils who remembered creation's first scream, bowed their heads when she walked by.
This was something else.
—
Far above them, beyond the smoke of Hell, in a sanctum untouched by time, the Celestial Council gathered for the first time in eons. Seven beings of pure divinity sat in a ring, each radiating light that could melt stars. They looked down into the threads of fate, and at the center of the great tapestry—there she was.
Lina.
Goddess of Flame.
Thief of the Underworld.
Heir to something long thought dead.
"She is more than she seems," spoke the First Voice, a being cloaked in white fire. "The Flame she carries does not belong to that realm. It was locked in the Vault of Origins."
A second voice, ancient and metallic, responded, "Then who released it?"
The answer came not in words—but in a whisper. A name.
One the Council had sworn never to speak.
Yrielle.
—
Back in the palace, Lina's dreams grew darker. She saw places she'd never been. A tree older than the gods. A mirror made of starlight. A man with wings of crystal calling her by another name.
Yrielle.
When she woke, the fire beneath her skin burned with more than heat—it buzzed with forgotten purpose.
"Andra," she said, her voice tight. "Do you know this name?"
His jaw clenched. "Where did you hear it?"
"In a dream. A memory. A lie? I don't know."
He stood, shadows falling off him like a cloak. "That name is cursed. It belonged to the goddess who burned the heavens."
"She was… me, wasn't she?"
He didn't answer.
—
Days passed, or what counted as days in a realm without sun. Lina's power continued to evolve. She could conjure flame without speaking. Command armies with a single thought. But inside, she felt fractured. Like a book with half its pages torn out.
She needed answers.
And there was only one place left in all creation where truth was kept without bias or mercy.
The Library of Bone.
It stood between realms, hidden behind veils of time and death. No living creature could find it—unless it remembered it first.
And Lina was starting to remember everything.
—
Together, she and Andra crossed the Threshold of Iron. The air there tasted of rusted blood and dying magic. Each step brought whispers to her ears—memories clawing their way back.
"Are you certain about this?" Andra asked, his voice rougher than usual.
"I need to know who I am."
"You are mine. That's all that matters."
She paused, looking back at him. "But do you love Lina? Or the echo of someone I used to be?"
Andra didn't speak. His silence was heavier than chains.
—
The Library of Bone rose before them like a dead god's cathedral. Bones of extinct beasts formed the archways. Books were bound in forgotten skins. And the librarian?
A creature with no face and a thousand eyes.
It bowed to her.
"You have returned, Yrielle," it said, voice a chorus of memories. "Shall I show you who you were?"
Lina's heart slammed against her ribs. "Yes."
The librarian gestured. Books flew from the shelves, pages turning mid-air, painting images with ash and light.
She saw herself. But not as Lina.
As Yrielle, goddess of flame and starlight. Beloved of creation.
Betrayed by her kin.
Cast into darkness for a crime she never committed—stealing the First Flame to stop the War of Dawn.
The gods had branded her a traitor.
Stripped her name.
Bound her soul to mortal flesh, reborn again and again—until now.
This life was her final one.
Andra stood frozen, watching the truth unfold. She turned to him.
"You knew."
He nodded once. "I loved her too. I loved you then. I love you now."
Her mind reeled. "You let me suffer. You let me fall—again and again—until I remembered."
"You needed to choose this power. Not inherit it. That was the only way to make the gods afraid."
Her hand clenched. "They should be."
—
When they left the Library, Lina was not just a goddess reborn.
She was a reckoning.
In her eyes burned galaxies. Her touch could unravel fate. The First Flame bowed to her now—not as a weapon, but as a piece of her soul.
Andra knelt before her, not out of submission—but devotion.
"My queen. My goddess. My end."
She touched his face gently, a smile playing on her lips. "No, Andra. You are my beginning."
Together, they would challenge the heavens.
And this time—Yrielle would not fall.
She would burn them all.