The air beneath Lorash was nothing like the world above. There was no wind, no scent of trees or flowers, no sound but the faint echo of boots on stone. The bridge that carried them forward curved like a serpent through an ocean of void, suspended by nothing, built from slabs etched in runes that glowed with steady, pale light. The deeper they went, the more the pressure built—not just on their bodies but on their minds. Thoughts seemed to stretch and twist. Memories surfaced without warning. Ethan gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay grounded. Focus on the steps. Focus on the mission.
Behind him, Lira walked in silence, her eyes fixed forward, but the emberlight around her flickered more erratically now, like a candle struggling against wind. Callen brought up the rear, one hand on his blade, the other on the small silver token he kept tied to his belt. Ethan had once asked what it was. Callen had never answered.
After what felt like an hour but could have been more, the bridge ended. Ahead stood a vast door, black as obsidian, rimmed with silver veins that pulsed with a soft glow. No handle, no hinges. Just a smooth, flawless surface carved with three interlocking symbols—flame, eye, and blade.
"What now?" Ethan asked, eyeing the door.
Lira stepped up to it, raised her hand, and pressed her palm to the symbol of flame. A burst of heat radiated outward, but the door didn't budge. Callen moved beside her and placed his hand on the blade. Nothing happened. Ethan stepped forward and touched the eye.
The entire door trembled.
Then it spoke.
"You carry burden and oath. Pain and promise. To pass, you must surrender one."
Lira frowned. "Surrender what?"
The voice continued, deep and emotionless. "Your burden or your oath. One must remain. One must fall. Choose."
Ethan stepped back, confused. "What does that even mean?"
Callen's face darkened. "They want us to abandon something. Either the pain we carry, or the promises we've made."
"If we give up the pain, we lose what made us," Lira whispered. "If we give up the oath, we lose what we're becoming."
The symbols on the door pulsed, then dimmed.
"I'll go first," Callen said. He reached for his token, the small silver medallion, and stared at it for a long time. "This was from my sister. She gave it to me before the raiders came. I swore I'd protect her. I failed." He closed his fist around the token. "But I won't let that pain rule me anymore."
He stepped forward, and the door shimmered. The blade symbol vanished from its surface. Without a word, he walked through the space that had opened, swallowed by the darkness beyond.
Lira looked to Ethan. "What will you choose?"
Ethan thought about the day he died. About the guilt he'd carried ever since. The lives he couldn't save. The doubt that always lingered. And he thought about the promise he made to fight for something better. To be more than just a man running from regret.
"I'm keeping the pain," he said. "I won't forget it. I won't let go of the fire that drives me."
The eye symbol faded. Ethan stepped through the opening, and cold wind rushed around him.
Lira stood alone with the last symbol. She stared at it, silent, until finally she whispered, "I won't abandon either."
The door flashed with white light, and for a moment, the void itself seemed to tremble. Then it opened wider, accepting her anyway.
They reunited in a chamber unlike anything Ethan had ever seen. It was circular, but the walls bent inward, shaped like a massive shell, carved from some kind of opalescent stone that reflected their movements like rippling water. In the center stood a raised platform surrounded by what looked like floating pages of crystal, each etched with runes in constant motion.
Callen exhaled sharply. "We're here."
Lira moved toward the platform. "The Chamber of Sigils."
Ethan followed. "What is this place?"
"It's where the Flameborn used to record every truth they uncovered," she said. "Every war. Every alliance. Every betrayal. This is the memory of Lorash."
Callen pointed to one of the hovering shards. "Then what's that?"
The crystal page shifted, showing an image—of Ethan. Not a drawing. A perfect recreation of him holding the Crown of Veils.
Lira stepped back, startled. "It's already recording us."
Ethan looked at the others. "Why? We're not done yet."
"It knows the turning point has begun," Callen murmured. "History doesn't wait for permission."
They walked deeper into the chamber. The crystal pages floated out of their way, revealing a staircase spiraling downward again. Always downward. Like the mountain itself had no end.
At the bottom, a hall stretched ahead, filled with lightless braziers. The air here was different—thicker, almost gelatinous. Every step felt like wading through fog.
The hall ended at a dais, and on it stood a figure.
A man.
Or what was left of one.
He was tall, impossibly tall, draped in robes made of shadow that shifted like smoke. His eyes were closed, but the moment they entered, he spoke.
"You come to take what was sealed."
Ethan froze.
The figure opened his eyes.
They were fire.
"I am Auron, last keeper of the Sovereign Flame. Bound here by oath and blood."
Lira stepped forward slowly. "We seek the Flame's renewal."
Auron tilted his head. "Then you seek to awaken the fire that once tore the heavens open."
Callen drew his blade a few inches. "We seek to save a world."
"You seek to burn one," Auron said.
Ethan stepped forward. "Then tell us how to stop it."
Auron studied him. "You already carry a shard of it. The Crown. You've begun the ignition."
Lira's voice trembled. "Then teach us to control it."
Auron lifted his hand.
The flames around his eyes dimmed.
And suddenly, the chamber shifted.
Walls fell away.
Sky replaced stone.
They stood on a battlefield, under a burning sky.
Above them, two titans of flame and void clashed in silence, each strike ripping apart reality itself.
Auron stood beside them now, his voice echoing over the desolation.
"This was the last time the Sovereign Flame awakened. It tore gods asunder. Worlds were unmade. Only one survived."
The vision shifted again.
They stood in a field of glass, beneath a blackened sun.
Ethan fell to his knees.
"What is this?"
"Possibility," Auron said. "If you take the Flame, this future can still happen."
Lira clutched her chest. "No. We can change it."
"You can try," Auron said. "But know this. Power never comes without price. Flame devours."
The world faded back to the chamber.
Auron stood where he had before.
His fire now dim.
"You may proceed," he said. "But the next gate is not one of stone or flame."
Ethan stood, heart still pounding. "Then what is it?"
"Choice," Auron said. "Sacrifice."
Without waiting, the dais split open.
And a stairway of molten stone emerged, descending into a pulsing red light.