The borderlands were unlike any place Raine had seen in Astralis.
To the west of Greenveil, the rolling meadows gave way to jagged cliffs, sweeping canyons, and shifting plains of dark red earth. The terrain here was unpredictable—as though the land itself had once been shattered and had never quite healed. It was said these lands had been scorched during the War of Shattered Skies, a time so ancient even elven records dared only speak of it in whispers.
But now, with relics of the First Sundering surfacing and the Verdant One defeated, the clues they sought pointed here—to a place called the Emberwatch Crater.
Raine, Sylara, Elira, and Vorn rode at the head of their small expedition. Only a few handpicked warriors and scouts followed, trusted enough to tread into the unknown.
Sylara had grown quieter the further west they traveled. At first, Raine thought she was simply focused. But after the second night, when he caught her staring into the flames with a rare look of unease, he decided to ask.
"You've been here before," he said, quietly enough that only she would hear.
She nodded, slow. "Once. As a child. My father brought me to the edge of the Emberwatch. He said it was where the veil between this world and others was thinest. Where magic first touched the land."
Raine raised an eyebrow. "And he took you there?"
Sylara gave a soft, sad smile. "He said I needed to see the cost of power if I ever wanted to wield it."
That stayed with Raine long after their conversation ended.
By the fourth day, the land began to hum beneath their feet. Not with sound, but with sensation. A distant vibration, like a heartbeat beneath stone.
They crested a rise and saw it for the first time.
The Emberwatch Crater was vast—miles wide, filled with jagged black rock that pulsed faintly with crimson veins. In the center was a dome of glassy obsidian, cracked but still whole. From it rose a spire of molten rock, hovering just above the surface.
Even Vorn, who had studied geological magic for decades, could only stare. "This... this isn't natural. It's a scar left by something that wanted to tear the world open."
Elira took a step closer. "There's something buried beneath it. I can feel it."
Raine did too. The First Flame stirred in response—not in warning, but in recognition. Whatever was down there, it was connected to him.
They made camp at the rim, but few slept. Raine walked the edges of the crater while the others rested, his thoughts drifting to the figure in gold they had seen in the vision. The way they moved, the aura around them—it hadn't just been power. It had been command. Leadership. Purpose.
Was that his future?
"You're too loud when you think," Sylara said, stepping up beside him.
He chuckled. "Guess I'm not used to carrying this much weight."
She looked at him. "You're not carrying it alone."
Their eyes held a moment longer than before.
The descent into the crater was slow. The obsidian cracked underfoot, but did not give way. Magic clung to everything—old, deep, and restless.
As they reached the central dome, Raine extended a hand. The crystal sphere from Greenveil pulsed in his pack. He drew it forth.
The orb floated to the surface of the dome and vanished into the glass.
A groan echoed through the crater, low and vast, like the earth awakening from a nightmare.
Cracks formed in the dome, glowing with inner fire. Then it shattered.
Beneath was a chamber—not made by hands, but by something far older. The walls were etched with constellations, symbols of fire, light, and time.
In the center of the room hovered a second orb.
Raine stepped forward and touched it.
A flood of visions hit him.
Cities of flame. Armies of light marching against darkness. A child, abandoned beneath a sky of fire. A star falling into a well of black.
He gasped and stumbled.
Sylara caught him. "What did you see?"
He looked at her, pale. "That golden figure from before... I think it's me. Or rather—it was someone who carried the First Flame long ago. And they failed."
The room trembled. Words formed in the air, spoken in an ancient tongue that Elira barely translated:
"The bearer rises again. The trial repeats. The Sundering begins anew."
Vorn cursed softly. "So it's not a prophecy. It's a cycle."
Sylara narrowed her eyes. "And someone—or something—is forcing it to repeat."
Suddenly, the spire of molten stone above the crater split in half.
A creature emerged—a being of living magma and smoke, humanoid in shape but with no features, only a burning brand where its heart should be.
It spoke without a mouth. "You were not meant to wake this place."
Raine stepped forward. "We need answers."
The being raised a hand, and fire lashed outward. The others scattered as Raine summoned a wall of flame to meet it. Fire met fire—his golden against its searing red.
Sylara leapt onto a high ridge and launched a flurry of enchanted arrows. Elira and Vorn began chanting, creating a binding circle.
The creature roared and slammed its fists into the rock, sending out shockwaves. Raine was thrown back, but caught himself with a burst of magic.
He reached inside, deeper than before, and found a new well of power—older, more focused.
The First Flame surged.
He leapt, fire trailing him like wings, and struck the creature in the chest.
The crater shook.
The creature collapsed into steam and ash.
Silence returned.
The orb in the chamber glowed softly. Raine picked it up, and it merged with the first.
Two of the echoes were now one.
That night, as the stars returned to the crater sky, Raine sat beside the fire, his hand resting lightly on the combined orb.
Sylara joined him, her expression softer than usual.
"You're changing," she said.
He nodded. "I feel it too. And it scares me."
She touched his shoulder. "It should. Power without fear is dangerous. But you? You're still you. Still Raine. That's why we follow you."
He turned to her, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you? Why do you stay?"
She smiled. "Because I chose to. And because you never stopped seeing me—not as a princess, or a warrior. Just... me."
The silence that followed was comfortable.
Above them, the stars shifted. One flickered. A new light among the constellations.
The journey wasn't over.
But they weren't walking it alone.