Chapter 4: Ember City
The road was broken.
Old stones jutted from the ground like broken teeth. Dust covered everything. Dead trees leaned sideways, their black branches creaking in the wind.
The boy walked behind Rayn, one hand on the sword at his back.
They had walked for two days.
His side still hurt. The bandages Rayn gave him were stained with blood, but the bleeding had stopped. Barely.
They spoke little.
Rayn walked with quiet steps, his long coat brushing the ground. He never seemed tired. Never lost.
The boy wanted to ask questions. About the sword. About the past. About himself.
But every time he opened his mouth, the wind swallowed his voice.
Until finally, Rayn stopped.
They stood on the edge of a cliff.
Below them stretched a valley full of smoke and orange light.
Ruins filled the land—buildings half-buried, towers split down the middle. Fires still burned in some places, even though the city had died long ago.
In the center, a black spire rose like a jagged nail.
Rayn pointed.
"Ember City," he said. "Once the heart of fire mages. Now... only ash."
The boy stared down. "What happened here?"
Rayn's mask tilted. "The Fall. Like everywhere else. Magic turned wild. People burned. Their hearts exploded into flame. Some still walk, wrapped in smoke."
The boy's fingers tightened around the strap of his sword.
"We're going down there?"
"Yes," Rayn said. "There's something buried under the spire. Something old. Something that remembers Valteris."
The boy felt the sword shift on his back. Like it was listening.
---
They climbed down broken stone paths, weaving through shattered gates and sunken streets.
Bones lay everywhere. Burned. Twisted.
Sometimes the wind carried voices. Screams. Whispers.
The boy didn't ask if they were real.
Rayn led him through empty markets, halls melted by fire, and bridges hanging by threads of steel.
At the city's center, they stood before the black spire.
The ground here was scorched. A deep pit surrounded the tower like a moat, filled with smoke.
Rayn stopped.
"Here," he said. "The test begins."
The boy frowned. "What test?"
Rayn stepped back.
"You will go down alone. Into the spire. If the blade accepts what sleeps below—you will leave alive."
"And if it doesn't?"
Rayn didn't answer.
The boy looked at the pit. It pulsed with red light.
The sword hummed on his back.
> "Go," Valteris whispered. "My memory waits below."
The boy jumped down.
---
Smoke wrapped around him like claws. He couldn't see the bottom. His feet hit something solid. A floor. Cold and smooth.
He stood in a black hall, lit only by fire leaking from cracks in the walls.
Strange statues lined the path—warriors with no faces, swords in their chests.
He walked slowly.
Every step echoed.
The further he went, the hotter it became. His skin prickled. His blood stirred.
At the end of the hall was a door made of bone.
It opened on its own.
Inside was a chamber filled with flame—but it didn't burn the boy.
In the center stood a figure.
A knight, wrapped in rusted armor, with eyes like molten gold.
A blade burned in his hand—red and bright, like a star.
> "You carry Valteris," the knight said. His voice shook the walls.
The boy nodded. "Who are you?"
> "I am a memory. A flame left behind."
The knight stepped forward.
> "Long ago, I served the Ruin Lord. I fell with him. And now, I wait for his sword to return."
The boy drew Valteris.
The black blade pulsed.
> "You are not him," the knight said. "But you carry his shadow. So I will test your fire."
The knight raised his blade.
The boy raised his own.
And they clashed.
---
The knight was strong. Every blow made the floor shake. His sword moved like lightning. Fire followed each swing.
The boy fought hard. His body ached. His hands bled. But he did not stop.
Valteris screamed with each strike.
Red sparks flew. The air boiled.
The boy jumped back—then charged again.
Their swords met—
A burst of power.
Both were thrown apart.
The knight knelt. His armor cracked. His flames dimmed.
He looked at the boy.
> "Good," he said. "You burn... but do not break."
He dropped his sword.
It turned to ash.
He reached out—and touched the boy's chest.
> "Remember this gift. The fire of ruin."
The boy's skin burned.
A new mark carved itself into his chest—like a glowing brand.
Then the knight faded.
Gone.
Only silence remained.
---
When the boy climbed out of the pit, the sky had turned darker.
Rayn stood waiting.
"You survived," he said. "Good."
The boy said nothing.
Rayn's eye studied him. "What did you gain?"
The boy looked down at his hands. Fire danced across his fingers—small, quiet, but alive.
> "Flame that doesn't burn," he whispered.
Rayn nodded.
"Then the first lesson is done."
He turned and walked away.
The boy followed.
Behind them, Ember City sank deeper into silence.
And above them, something far away began to watch.
Something old.
Something waking.
---