The sky turned to ash at dawn.
Inside the temple, the air had changed. A low hum pulsed beneath the stone floors, resonating like the deep breath of something ancient stirring from sleep.
Eli stood at the center of the Grand Hall with Jericho, Mira, and the Ashwalker. Master Alaryn traced an old symbol across the floor—a spiral with three lines etched through it.
"You're sure?" Mira asked, uneasy.
Alaryn didn't answer immediately. "This seal hasn't been broken in centuries. But the Threads are shifting. The Flamebound must understand where he came from... and what he might become."
With a final whisper, Alaryn pressed his palm to the spiral. The stone shuddered, then parted.
A staircase appeared, carved into the mountain's roots.
---
Chamber of Embers
They descended in silence, the temperature rising with every step. Ancient glyphs glowed dimly along the walls—symbols in a language Eli couldn't read, but somehow understood.
At the base, they entered a vast chamber. At its heart: a suspended ember, floating above a stone altar, pulsing with life.
"It's... alive," Eli murmured.
"It's the First Ember," the Ashwalker said. "What remains of the original Flamebound."
Jericho added, "He lit the First Flame during the Age of Collapse. Sacrificed everything to bind the world together."
Eli stepped closer. Visions bled into his mind—wars of fire, monstrous shadows, a lone warrior standing against an army of void.
He staggered back. "He was... like me."
"No," said the Ashwalker. "You are stronger."
---
A Warning From the Flame
The ember flared.
Eli's eyes widened as his consciousness was pulled forward—into the flame itself.
He stood in a battlefield of memory. A ruined temple. Bodies frozen in time. A figure cloaked in gold stood before him.
"You are not ready," the figure said, voice like crackling fire.
"Then help me become ready."
The figure extended a hand. "Then remember... and choose."
A rush of light exploded around him. When he blinked again, he was back in the chamber—on his knees, gasping.
Alaryn helped him up. "What did you see?"
"Everything," Eli whispered. "And the choice I'll have to make."
---
Dark Tide
Far to the north, General Velra's forces had reached the edge of the Threadborn's outer ward. Fires burned in the snow, illuminating crude totems built from shattered bones.
The masked oracle from earlier approached Velra, holding a small crystal orb that pulsed with a red hue.
"The Temple has opened its heart," the oracle rasped. "They've begun his awakening."
Velra smiled. "Then we strike before he's whole."
Behind them, warhorns blared. The Dread Circle's beasts—hulking, thread-corrupted monsters—howled into the dark.
"Send the scouts," Velra ordered. "I want his location. If they resist... reduce the mountain to ash."
---
Kindling Resolve
Later that night, Eli stood at the balcony overlooking the dark forests below. Mira joined him.
"You're different now," she said.
"I feel different," he replied. "Like... something's been lit inside me."
"The Threads chose you for a reason."
He turned to her. "But what if I burn everything down?"
Mira smiled softly. "Then I'll stand beside you... and remind you who you are."
Behind them, the Ashwalker approached, cloaked in silence.
"They're coming," she said. "Faster than we thought."
Eli looked to the sky, his eyes reflecting the emberlight.
"Then let's give them a welcome they'll never forget."