Darkness was not the absence of light—it was weight. Heavy. Suffocating.
Emberlyn floated in it, her limbs numb, her thoughts flickering like candle flames in a storm. The last thing she remembered was fire—her own fire—blazing against the wave of shadow-bound warriors. Then a blow to the back of her head, a taste of blood, and then… nothing.
Now, she awoke to silence.
Her wrists were bound in runes of silver and iron, ancient sigils biting into her skin, draining her power. She knelt in the center of a circular chamber. The walls were carved obsidian, polished to reflect distorted images. Torchlight flickered around her, casting monstrous shapes against the walls.
A voice echoed, smooth as oil, cold as glass.
"You've returned to us, Flame-Bound."
She raised her head slowly. Across the chamber stood a figure in crimson robes and a gold-veined mask. His eyes glowed faintly behind the metal—unnerving and inhuman.
"The Keeper," she said, voice dry. "Still hiding behind masks, I see."
He tilted his head. "And you, still clinging to a dead name. Seris is no more. You are Emberlyn now. Soft. Incomplete."
She met his gaze with fire in her eyes. "And yet here you are, fearing a girl with half her memories."
The Keeper walked toward her, hands clasped. "You are a vessel. Nothing more. The soul of Seris has outlived her purpose. The Circle will consume what remains, strip the flame from your blood, and forge it into something new."
He gestured, and the wall behind him shimmered—revealing a vision.
A map of the kingdom, marked with crimson points: cities, strongholds, places Emberlyn remembered from Seris's war. All of them corrupted. Beneath the cities, glyphs pulsed like dark hearts—wells of twisted magic.
"We've been preparing while you slept," the Keeper said. "The world has changed. The people have forgotten. They think us legend."
Emberlyn struggled to stand, the runes on her bindings sparking. "Then it's time they remember fire."
The Keeper stepped closer. "You speak bravely, but the soul fractures. You are not whole. And without the other half… you are nothing."
His hand touched her forehead.
Pain surged through her like lightning—visions not her own:
—Children weeping in red-lit rooms.
—Flames turned inward, eating at the mind.
—Seris kneeling before the Circle… willingly.
—A deal. A betrayal. A hidden truth.
Emberlyn screamed. Then darkness took her again.
---
Far to the east, Kael stumbled through the forest paths of the Ashen Ridge. Rain lashed his face, and every step felt heavier with guilt.
He had left her.
She told him to—but still, the shame burned. The image of her surrounded by enemies, flames wrapping around her like armor, was seared into his memory. He had barely escaped.
But her final command rang like a bell in his head: Find Arenya.
The map she left him was marked in ancient script, showing the way to an exile's sanctuary. It had taken him days to find this place: a forest long turned black by old magic, trees charred but unburnt, ash falling like snow even when skies were clear.
A howl cut through the silence.
Not an animal. Not natural.
He spun, arrow nocked—only to find a blade at his throat.
"Who sent you?" a voice growled behind him.
Kael didn't move. "I seek Arenya. The Second Flame. Seris is reborn. She needs you."
Silence.
Then the blade withdrew.
From the shadows stepped a tall woman clad in leather armor reinforced with crimson steel. Her skin was dark as obsidian, her hair braided and wrapped in red cloth, and her eyes… they burned like molten gold.
"You speak her name like it still means something," Arenya said.
Kael lowered his bow. "It does. She's alive. She remembers. And the Circle has her."
Arenya stared at him, hard as stone. "Then we're already late."
She turned, motioning for him to follow.
---
Back in the Circle's stronghold, Emberlyn awoke again—this time not alone.
A girl sat across from her in the shadows. No older than sixteen, with pale skin, white-gold hair, and eyes like cracked mirrors. She tilted her head curiously, watching Emberlyn like one would a strange bird.
"They said you were fire," the girl said softly. "But you're cold now."
Emberlyn didn't speak.
"I'm called Mira," the girl said. "I was born in the Circle. They say I'm the next vessel, after you."
Emberlyn raised her head. "Then run. While you still can."
Mira shook her head. "Why? This is all I've known. They feed me. Teach me. Give me power. You had your war. I will have mine."
Emberlyn's voice was a whisper. "They will burn you from the inside out."
Mira leaned forward. "Maybe. But fire leaves ashes. And sometimes, from ashes, new gods rise."
She stood, leaving Emberlyn with more questions—and fear.
The Circle wasn't just reviving its past.
It was evolving.
---
Arenya stood on a cliff edge as Kael caught his breath behind her. They overlooked a vast valley—a barren expanse once known as the Hollow Sea. Now, a fortress of black stone and red light had risen from its center.
"That's where they took her," Kael said. "I saw it in their eyes."
Arenya didn't speak at first. She watched the fortress like it was a familiar wound reopened.
"I swore never to return," she murmured. "After Seris fell… after I failed her… I walked away from the fire."
Kael stepped beside her. "She doesn't blame you. She needs you."
Arenya's fingers flexed. Her twin blades glinted in the dying light.
"She needs more than me," she said. "She needs a war."
She turned to Kael.
"Gather who you can. Mercenaries, old oath-keepers, even rebels. Tell them the fire is rising again."
"And you?" Kael asked.
Arenya's eyes flared. "I'm going to get her back."
---
Deep within the fortress, Emberlyn sat in chains. Her mind was bruised, her memories battered—but her fire… it still lived. Quiet. Waiting.
And in her dreams, Seris's voice whispered:
"They think the flame can be caged. Let them try."
.....