(Malveth POV)
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The underground halls of the Blackspire Sanctuary echoed with the sound of footsteps—small, rapid, eager.
Children.
Dozens of them.
Once homeless, forgotten, or sold as tools in a cruel world.
Now?
Now they bore the mark of the Demon Lord.
---
Malveth stood atop a platform, wrapped in a black cloak, her silver eyes glowing faintly in the dim torchlight. At her side, Ishvara, the ever-loyal fanatic priestess, smiled with unnerving pride.
> "They've accepted the Binding," Ishvara whispered. "All of them."
"Did they survive it?" Malveth asked coldly.
"Only the worthy," Ishvara replied, gesturing to the fresh blood on the floor. "As you wished."
---
Malveth descended the steps slowly, her boots echoing with every step. The children looked up at her—not with fear, but worship.
"Do you know why I saved you?" she asked.
No one answered.
One boy stepped forward—scars on his arms, dirt on his cheeks, but fire in his eyes. "Because the world threw us away. And you saw us."
Malveth crouched to meet his gaze. "What's your name?"
He hesitated. "I… I had one, but it was taken."
"Then I'll give you a new one," she said, placing a hand on his head. "You are Ashen One. First of the Flameborn."
The boy trembled.
Then dropped to his knees.
---
That night, the Flameborn trained with blades forged from cursed metal and magic laced in blood. They moved with rage. With pain. With purpose.
And as they trained, Ishvara watched Malveth whispering to herself in the shadows.
> "Do they remind you of yourself?" Ishvara asked.
> "No," Malveth said quietly. "They remind me of Kael."
> "You hate him."
> "I understand him."
She looked up to the stars peeking through the cracks above.
> "He created me to destroy. But I can do more than that."
> "I can build."
---
And somewhere far above, in the capital of Altheon, bells rang for another knighting ceremony.
One Hero was rising.
One Demon was preparing.
And neither knew…
They were both walking the same path.