The fire had not consumed her.
Not completely.
The Ashdream was not a place for flames to burn away flesh, but a realm of memory and shadow, where time was a ghost and pain only whispered. Liora felt the burn of it long before her eyes adjusted to the twilight.
There was no warmth in this fire, no comfort in the dance of embers.
She opened her eyes slowly, but the scene before her was not the Spire, nor the basin, nor the familiar cracks of the earth where her father had stood. She stood in a forest—but not like any forest she knew. The trees were twisted into shapes she couldn't recognize, their branches wreathed in cold silver mist. The air was thick, heavy, dense with whispers that seemed to come from all directions.
Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Her breaths felt shallow. Her feet ached, but not from travel—no, this was something deeper. Something that pressed against her soul.
She wasn't alone.
A figure moved through the trees, its silhouette barely visible through the mist. At first glance, it looked human, but there was something unnatural about the way it moved—like a shadow made flesh. It paused, as if aware of her presence.
Liora took a cautious step forward.
"You're the one they seek," the figure spoke, voice as low as the wind through dead leaves. The sound was both malevolent and sorrowful, like a song of distant mourning.
Her pulse quickened. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head, and in the moment that followed, Liora saw its eyes—a bright, piercing blue that gleamed like shards of ice. "I am what was forgotten. What you will become."
She clenched her fists. "What are you talking about?"
The figure stepped closer, moving with unnerving fluidity, until it stood in front of her. Its hand reached out, and in its palm was a single ember—pulsing, glowing faintly.
"The heart of the Ashdream," it said. "Do you know what it is? It is memory. It is fire. It is what remains when everything else falls away."
Liora's breath hitched. She couldn't look away from the ember. "I've seen this before... in the fire."
"Yes," it replied, its smile too sharp, too knowing. "It is not a place. It is a test. It is your choice."
Back in the waking world, Kael paced restlessly at the edge of the camp. The flame still burned brightly, but Liora—she was gone.
Seran stood beside him, eyes focused on the ring of fire that now flickered softly in the still morning air. "She's within," Seran murmured, his voice betraying no hint of worry. "The Ashdream takes those it chooses, but it also chooses those who must answer."
Kael didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the fire, searching for any sign of her. The minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity.
Wren, sitting cross-legged beside the campfire, seemed unaffected by the tension in the air. He looked as though he had been waiting for this very moment—calm, serene, as though he knew something none of them did. His fingers traced patterns in the ash, each movement slow, deliberate.
"What do you know?" Kael demanded, his patience thinning.
Wren's eyes didn't leave the ground. "I know the Ashdream takes its toll. Not in body, but in mind. It will reveal the truth to her, Kael. Whether she is ready to see it or not."
"And if she's not ready?" Kael snapped.
Wren finally looked up, meeting Kael's gaze with a soft, unreadable expression. "Then she'll burn."
Liora stumbled as she tried to take another step forward. The forest of silver mist was closing in on her, growing thicker, more suffocating with every breath. She couldn't tell if the ground beneath her feet was solid or if it was just an illusion, warping with each passing moment.
The figure moved again, stepping toward her with that same ethereal grace, the ember still glowing in its hand. "The Ashdream reveals what was. What might have been. And what could still be. What do you see?"
Liora's head spun. "I don't understand."
"It's not for you to understand. It's for you to choose." The figure paused, its smile stretching wider. "Will you accept your birthright, the power coursing through you? Will you forge your path? Or will you burn out, like so many before you?"
She swallowed hard. The ember seemed to pulse harder in the figure's palm, as though alive with its own fire. "What's my birthright?" she asked.
"You are the Cinderborn. The one who will awaken the fire of the ancients. The one who will either redeem the world… or let it fall to ash."
Liora's heart raced in her chest. "I don't want to burn anything."
The figure chuckled, a soft, hollow sound. "Then you will be consumed."
A sharp pain suddenly split through her chest, as if her heart had been gripped by something cold, something that didn't belong to her. She staggered backward, gasping for air, her limbs growing weak, her vision narrowing.
"Remember," the figure whispered. "Remember who you were meant to be."
Kael's hand was on his sword hilt before he even realized it.
The tension in the air had thickened, suffocating, as though something was about to shatter. He felt a tug deep in his gut—he couldn't explain it, but it was like a pull toward something... wrong. Something ancient, something that didn't belong here.
And then, as though the universe had answered his call, the fire flared once more.
Liora's form appeared in the center of the flame-ring, her body flickering in and out of existence, like a mirage. She gasped, stumbling forward, her hands reaching for him, but her eyes were distant, unfocused.
"Liora!" Kael called, his voice thick with fear.
She didn't respond.
Seran moved first, stepping closer to her, but there was something wrong. The air around her crackled with strange energy, shimmering like heat above a desert.
"Liora, can you hear me?" Seran asked, his voice urgent.
Her eyes flickered toward him, but it was as though she wasn't fully present. "I... I can't..." she whispered, voice shaking. "I don't know who I am anymore."
Seran moved closer, his hand hovering near her shoulder, but he didn't touch her. "The Ashdream doesn't give answers. It only asks questions."
Kael couldn't wait any longer. He rushed to her side, grabbing her hand. "We need to get out of here. This place is twisting your mind."
For a moment, Liora's gaze cleared, and she looked up at him, her expression torn. "I have to do this. I have to face it."
"No," Kael said firmly, pulling her toward him. "We don't need to face it. Whatever this is, we're leaving."
Liora shook her head, her grip tightening. "I can't go back. Not until I understand. Not until I know what this is."
Kael's heart twisted. He looked into her eyes, saw the fear and the determination burning there, and knew, deep down, that she couldn't leave until she answered the Ashdream's call.
And neither could he.