They traveled in silence through the Twilight Hollows, a narrow band of territory where sound twisted unnaturally and shadows danced to rhythms no one could explain. Here, the sky never brightened, and echoes sometimes answered before the original words were spoken.
Kael felt a strange resonance in his bones the moment they crossed the faded bone arch that marked the Hollows' border. The ember-flame in his chest dimmed but pulsed deeply, like it was listening. Or waiting.
Lira, walking ahead with her compass creature tucked under her cloak, shivered. "Something old lives here. Older than the clans. Maybe older than talents themselves."
Drex muttered, "Only reason this place hasn't been claimed is because every expedition ends up mad or missing."
"And yet here we are," Aren said, her voice tight. She kept her crossbow loaded and ready, her steps deliberate.
They moved cautiously along the cracked obsidian trail, flanked by thorn trees that bled mist when touched. Kael tried not to blink too much—the shadows seemed to change position every time his eyes closed.
---
Their destination was the Obelith Echo, an ancient monolith rumored to store memory-echoes of long-dead talent bearers. Aren believed it might hold secrets to the lost fusion arts. Kael wasn't so sure. His dreams had shown him things—songs, visions, a staircase leading downward through flame and feathers. The Obelith was just a step along that path.
Three nights in, they found a clearing where the earth dipped inward like a bowl. At its center stood the Obelith—a jagged black spire that hummed audibly in the otherwise dead air.
It was taller than Kael expected. Not carved, but grown. Like a tooth, or a talon.
Aren circled it once, eyes narrowed. "This thing shouldn't exist. The material—it's neither stone nor crystal."
Kael stepped forward. The ember-flame reacted again, swirling into his hands without being summoned.
"Wait," Lira warned. "You don't know what it will do."
But it was too late.
Kael pressed his palm to the surface.
The world shifted.
---
He was somewhere else. A memory? A simulation?
The sky was aflame.
Massive beings—not human, not beast—walked across cities made of bone and light. They sang as they burned everything. Their songs were not cruel. They were beautiful. Mournful. Like lullabies sung at the edge of extinction.
A woman stood atop a spire, arms raised, and from her mouth poured gray fire—the same that lived in Kael. Her face was hidden beneath a feathered mask.
"Bind the flame," she intoned. "Bind the wound."
Then her eyes turned to him.
"The Ember remembers. You must unseal the Vault. The clans have lied."
Kael woke on his knees, the others shouting. The Obelith was glowing faintly, a mark now burned into Kael's hand: a spiral of ash and fire.
---
"You touched it?" Aren hissed. "What did you see?"
Kael looked at her. "Truth. Or what remains of it."
Lira examined the mark. "It's a conduit sigil. A symbol from pre-Fusion War records. Not a clan design. Not even from our age."
Drex spat. "We shouldn't stay here. This place warps the mind."
Aren nodded reluctantly. "We got what we came for. Let's move."
---
But they didn't get far.
That night, as they camped near the Hollows' edge, riders came.
Clad in sun-metal armor, faces obscured by gilded helms. The Hollow Sun.
They didn't attack immediately. Just circled like vultures.
A voice boomed from the dark. "You have stolen sacred knowledge. You bear a mark that belongs to the First Flame. Surrender the heretic."
Kael stood, the flame already rising within him.
Aren drew her blade. Drex primed his crystal gun. Lira whispered to her compass, which hissed and grew threefold.
"We're not surrendering anyone," Aren growled.
The Hollow Sun soldiers attacked.
What followed was chaos. Light-blades clashing with raw talent. Sigil grenades ripping through the glass earth. Drex fought like a madman, carving glowing trails with each strike. Lira's compass-beast devoured the shadows themselves.
Kael found himself facing one of the Hollow Sun elites. The man's armor was etched with sunbursts and chains.
"Your talent is a mistake," the man sneered. "A blasphemy."
Kael responded by releasing his flame.
But this time, it didn't just burn.
It sang.
A harmony of memories flooded the air. The soldier stumbled, ears bleeding, his helmet cracking. Kael stepped forward, palm glowing.
"I am the Echo," he said. "And you are forgotten."
The blast sent the man flying.
When it was over, they were all breathing hard, bruised, bloodied.
Aren slumped against a boulder. "We can't keep fighting like this. They'll send more."
Kael looked at his hand. The mark was brighter now, pulsing.
"Then we stop running," he said.
They all looked at him.
"We go to the Vault. Find the source. If we want to change this world, we start where it all began."
Aren met his gaze. "You better be right."
Kael nodded. "I have to be."
In the dark, the ember-flame pulsed once more.