Chapter Four: Cael'Mareth Burning
The city of Cael'Mareth had once been a place of marvel—gilded towers adorned with banners of gold and crimson, canals that shimmered with enchanted light, and bridges carved from songstone that rang with melody underfoot. But when Kael, Reya, and Solren crested the ridge overlooking the valley, what they saw was not the city of legend. Smoke rose from the outer quarter. The eastern gate was shattered, and something unnatural pulsed from within—a sickly red glow that twisted the sky above.
Reya pulled up her hood. "They're here already."
Solren's expression darkened. "Ashbound."
Kael could feel it—the wrongness, like oil slicked across the surface of his magic. The ring on his finger grew cold, a warning that the flame itself recoiled.
They descended quickly, avoiding the main road. The fields surrounding the city had withered into black husks. Scorched trees stood like sentinels, and deep furrows marred the earth as if something massive had torn through.
"Why attack now?" Kael asked. "What do they want?"
"They want the Ember Gate," Solren said. "It guards the Vault of Origins. If they breach it, Virelith can rewrite the prophecy."
Reya's eyes widened. "But the prophecy is sealed—"
"Only by the flame's memory," Solren cut in. "Which you now carry."
Kael felt the weight of it settle over him. He had inherited a legacy older than empires, and now the fate of a prophecy no one had explained fully rested with him.
They reached the southern wall unnoticed and slipped through a hidden sally gate Solren had used in lifetimes past. Inside, the city was chaos. Civilians fled in all directions, shadows moved through alleys, and ash rained like snow.
An explosion rocked the nearby plaza.
"We split up," Reya said. "I'll find survivors and organize resistance. Solren, get Kael to the Ember Gate."
"No," Kael protested. "We stay together."
Solren shook his head. "The prophecy speaks of fire divided to conquer shadow. You'll burn brighter apart."
Kael hesitated. Then nodded. "Don't die."
Reya grinned. "I never do."
They made their way to the heart of the city, where the Ember Gate stood—a towering archway of obsidian etched with phoenix runes. A dozen Ashbound cultists surrounded it, cloaked in gray and black, their arms etched with ritual scars. In their midst was a woman.
Virelith.
She stood barefoot in the center of a burning circle, her eyes glowing with voidlight. Her voice rang out like a twisted hymn.
"By the ash of the first breath, by the silence of the lost flame—I call thee, shadowed Phoenix!"
Kael froze. He saw a figure in the fire—twisted, skeletal, wings like tattered smoke. The Ash Phoenix.
Solren's hand closed on his shoulder. "You must interrupt the rite. Or it will anchor."
"But how?"
"With truth," Solren said. "Not fire. Speak the name the flame remembers."
Kael stepped forward. The cultists turned. One rushed him, blade drawn. Kael raised a hand, flame bursting from his palm. The attacker crumpled, screaming.
The others hesitated. Virelith did not.
"You are late, child of the dying spark."
"I know who you are," Kael said. "You failed once. You'll fail again."
She laughed. "I've failed a hundred times. This time, I learn."
Kael closed his eyes. Reached into the flame. And found it—her name. The one she had abandoned.
"Serai."
The ritual shuddered.
Virelith staggered. "That name is dust."
"No," Kael said. "It's your truth."
She screamed, and the circle imploded. The cultists were thrown back. The twisted Phoenix vanished like smoke caught in wind.
Solren caught Kael as he stumbled.
"Good," the old Phoenix murmured. "You're learning."
But Kael's strength gave out.
The last thing he saw was the Ember Gate glowing—not with flame, but with something older.
Something awakening.
(End of Chapter Four: Cael'Mareth Burning)