PART 1: THE WHISPER IN THE ASH
The ember's voice lingered in Aric's skull like a brand.
"Find me."
He knelt in the ruins of the Ashen District, his fingers tracing the words now carved into Lysara's throat—"ARIC", fresh and raw. The other names pulsed beneath her skin, whispering in languages dead before he was born.
"Where do we start?" Aric asked.
Lysara's hands moved slowly, her signs deliberate. "Where it began. The first Pyre."
Kael's corpse twitched.
The dead scholar had been silent since the Hollow King's death, but now his fingers spasmed, scratching at the ground like a dying insect. Words formed in the dirt—not his own.
"She is not what she seems."
Then his head snapped up, his starry eyes fixed on Lysara.
"Ask her about the child."
Lysara went very still.
PART 2: THE BLOOD OF THE FIRST
They traveled north, beyond the ruins, into lands where the earth itself remembered fire.
The air smelled of lightning and old bones. Strange plants grew here—twisted things with petals like embers, roots that slithered away when touched. Lysara led them through the wastes, her steps sure, her silence heavier than ever.
Aric couldn't take it anymore.
"What child?" he demanded.
Lysara didn't turn. "Mine."
The word hit like a hammer.
"You have a—?"
"Had."Her hands clenched. "The Pyre took her. Just like it took everything else."
Kael's corpse laughed—a sound like breaking glass.
"Liar," it rasped. "You gave her to them."
Lysara moved faster than thought. One moment she was strides ahead; the next, her dagger pressed against Kael's rotting throat.
"Say that again," she signed with her free hand.
Kael's grin didn't waver. "You traded her for power. Just like your mother traded you."
The dagger bit deeper. Black ooze welled.
Aric grabbed Lysara's wrist. "Enough. We need him."
She wrenched free but stepped back.
Kael's corpse touched its throat, then licked the ichor from its fingers.
"The first Pyre lies beyond the Black Maw," it said. "But you won't like what you find there."
PART 3: THE BLACK MAW
The Maw wasn't a cave or a canyon.
It was a "mouth".
A vast fissure in the earth, its edges lined with stone teeth, its depths exhaling air hotter than a forge. The stench of burning metal clung to everything.
Aric peered over the edge. "We're supposed to go down there?"
Lysara nodded.
Kael's corpse walked past them both—and stepped into the abyss.
They followed.
The descent was worse than Aric imagined. The stone teeth "moved", grinding together like a jaw. The walls bled molten rock. And the whispers—
"Aric."
"Lysara."
"Murderer."—came from everywhere and nowhere.
Then the darkness spat them out into a cavern so vast its ceiling might have been the sky.
At its heart burned a single flame.
No— Not a flame.
A "woman".
PART 4: THE LAST PYRE GOD
She hung suspended in the air, her limbs stretched taut by chains of living ember. Her hair floated like smoke, her skin cracked and glowing from within. When she opened her eyes, they were pure white—no pupils, no iris, just endless light.
The voice that came from her was not a voice at all.
It was "fire".
"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE COME."
Kael's corpse fell to its knees. "Mother."
Aric's breath caught.
The Pyre God's gaze shifted to Lysara.
"DAUGHTER."
Then to Aric.
"FAILURE."
Lysara stepped forward, her hands moving in sharp, ancient signs.
"We're here for the child."
The Pyre God "screamed".
The chains shattered.
PART 5: THE FINAL BETRAYAL
The cavern convulsed. Stones rained from above. The air itself burned.
Through the chaos, Aric saw it— A small figure, curled at the Pyre God's feet.
A girl. No older than six. Her skin was porcelain, her hair white as ash. And her eyes— Her eyes were "Lysara's".
"No," Aric whispered.
Lysara was already moving, her dagger flashing toward the Pyre God's heart.
The god caught her wrist.
"YOU GAVE HER TO ME," it hissed. "TO END THE CYCLE."
Lysara's other hand snapped up—not to attack, but to "sign".
"I lied."
She tore the child from the Pyre God's grasp.
The world "exploded".
CHAPTER ENDING: THE FIRE THAT REMAINS
Aric woke to silence.
The cavern was gone. The Maw was gone.
He lay in a field of white flowers, their petals soft as ember-down. Beside him, Lysara cradled the child—her child—her face streaked with soot and tears.
Kael's corpse stood over them, its starry eyes dim.
"It's done," it said.
Then it collapsed into dust.
In its place lay a single page, its words burning themselves into Aric's mind:
The last Pyre is not a god.
"It is a choice."
"And you have made yours."
—TO BE CONTINUED—