The Frostveil Plains were a graveyard of frost and stone under the pre-dawn sky, their silence broken only by the crunch of boots and the occasional curse from Serina. Elias Woodmere trudged behind her, his cloak heavy with dew, his body aching from the night's chaos. Zoryk led the way, his tall frame cutting through the mist like a blade, his curved sword swaying at his hip. The mercenary's tattooed arm glowed faintly, its runes pulsing in rhythm with his steps, a constant reminder of his enigmatic presence.
Elias's mind was a storm of questions. The Brotherhood enforcer's pursuit, the shadows of Oblivion, Zoryk's cryptic deal—it all weighed on him, heavier than the spark in his chest. That spark, once a fleeting curiosity, now felt like a living thing, stirring with every beat of his heart. It whispered of Kaylin, of battles fought and lost, of a fire that could save or destroy Etheria. But Elias wasn't a hero. He was a village boy, talentless and afraid, and the weight of that contradiction threatened to crush him.
"Pick up the pace, spark-boy," Serina called, her voice sharp but tinged with exhaustion. She walked a few steps ahead, her silver hair tucked under her hood, her dagger glinting in the faint light. "We're not on a picnic."
Elias shot her a weary glance. "You've been saying that for hours. Where are we even going?"
"Emberfall," Zoryk answered without turning, his deep voice carrying over the plains. "The heart of the fire, where the Brotherhood keeps its secrets. If you want answers about that spark of yours, that's where we'll find them."
Elias's stomach knotted. Emberfall was a name from stories—cities of volcanic stone, temples glowing with sacred flames, a place where the Eternal Flame burned brightest. But Serina's warnings about the Brotherhood's corruption made it sound more like a lion's den than a sanctuary. "And the Brotherhood?" he asked. "They're just going to let us waltz in?"
Zoryk chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Not likely, boy. But I know paths they don't patrol. Old paths, from before their greed turned the flame to ash."
Serina snorted, her eyes narrowing. "Convenient. And why should we trust you, mercenary? Last time I checked, you'd sell your own mother for a bag of fire-crystals."
Zoryk's smirk didn't falter. "You wound me, little thief. I'm here for the same reason you are—the Eternal Flame's dying, and none of us survive if it goes out. Besides, I made a deal. I keep my word."
"For now," Serina muttered, her hand resting on her dagger. She glanced at Elias, her expression softening slightly. "Stay sharp, spark-boy. Zoryk's got a habit of leaving bodies in his wake."
Elias nodded, his throat tight. He didn't trust Zoryk either, not with that calculating glint in his eyes or the way his tattoo seemed to pulse with secrets. But they were out of options, with the enforcer's flames still a threat and the shadows lurking in the dark. For now, Zoryk was their guide, whether they liked it or not.
The plains began to change as the sky lightened, the frost giving way to patches of scorched earth, as if the ground itself had been kissed by fire. Strange, jagged rocks jutted from the soil, their surfaces etched with the same runes Elias had seen in the ravine. The air grew warmer, carrying a faint scent of charcoal and sulfur. They were nearing the border of Emberfall, where the Eternal Flame's influence was strongest—and most dangerous.
Zoryk stopped abruptly, his hand raised. Elias froze, his heart pounding. Serina's dagger was out in a flash, her body tense. "What now?" she hissed.
Zoryk's eyes scanned the horizon, his expression unreadable. "We're not alone," he said, his voice low. "Something's watching."
Elias's spark stirred, a warning pulse in his chest. He followed Zoryk's gaze, squinting into the distance. The plains were empty, the rocks casting long shadows in the dawn light. But then he saw it—a flicker of movement, subtle but unmistakable. A figure, cloaked and hooded, stood atop a distant hill, its form shimmering like a mirage. It didn't move, didn't approach, but its presence sent a chill down Elias's spine.
"Another Brotherhood goon?" Serina asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Zoryk shook his head. "Not Brotherhood. Something else. Something… older."
The figure vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only a faint ripple in the air. Elias's spark flared, unbidden, its warmth tinged with unease. "What was that?" he asked, his voice shaking.
Zoryk's jaw tightened. "A watcher. They serve the Oblivion, scouting for power like yours. We need to move, now."
Elias's blood ran cold. The shadows in the ravine had been bad enough, but this watcher felt different—calculated, deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. He glanced at Serina, hoping for her usual bravado, but her face was pale, her smirk gone.
They hurried forward, the rocks growing denser, their runes glowing faintly in the dawn. The ground sloped downward, leading to a narrow valley flanked by cliffs of black stone. The air was thick with heat now, the sulfur smell stronger, and the distant roar of a river echoed from below. Zoryk led them to a hidden path, its entrance concealed by a tangle of scorched vines. "This way," he said, pushing the vines aside. "The old paths will keep us off the Brotherhood's radar—for now."
Elias hesitated, the memory of the watcher lingering. "What's the Oblivion, really?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm. "You both keep talking about it, but no one's explaining."
Serina and Zoryk exchanged a glance, a silent conversation Elias couldn't read. Serina sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not something you explain in a sentence, spark-boy. The Oblivion is… a force. A darkness that eats light, fire, life. It's been around forever, or so the stories say, but it's been quiet for centuries. Until now."
"Now?" Elias pressed, his heart racing. "Why now?"
Zoryk's voice was grim. "Because the Eternal Flame is weakening. It's the only thing keeping the Oblivion at bay. If it dies, the shadows take everything—Etheria, the plains, every spark and soul. And your fire, boy, is part of that balance, whether you like it or not."
Elias's chest tightened. Part of the balance? He could barely control his spark, let alone save a world. But Kaylin's memories stirred, a fragment surfacing like a shard of glass. A battlefield, flames spiraling, Kaylin's voice roaring. *"The Oblivion cannot be fought, only contained. The flame is our shield, but it demands a price."*
He shook his head, pushing the memory down. "I didn't ask for this," he muttered, more to himself than to them.
"Nobody does," Serina said, her tone softer than usual. She stepped closer, her green eyes searching his. "But you've got it, Elias. And you're not alone."
Her words were a small comfort, but they couldn't erase the fear gnawing at him. He followed Zoryk down the path, Serina at his side, the weight of the Oblivion's gaze lingering like a shadow on his soul.
---
The old path was a winding tunnel carved into the cliff, its walls smooth and etched with runes that glowed with a faint, golden light. The air was warm, almost stifling, and the distant roar of the river grew louder, vibrating through the stone. Elias's spark pulsed in rhythm with the runes, a connection he didn't understand but couldn't ignore. Zoryk moved with purpose, his tattoo glowing brighter now, its runes mirroring those on the walls.
"This place," Elias said, his voice echoing. "What is it?"
"An ancient sanctuary," Zoryk replied, his tone reverent. "Built by the first Flameborn, before the Brotherhood turned the fire into a weapon. These paths were meant for pilgrims, those seeking the Eternal Flame's truth."
"Truth," Serina scoffed, her dagger twirling idly. "Sounds like a fancy way of saying 'death trap.'"
Zoryk's smirk returned. "You're not wrong, little thief. The paths are safe, but they test those who walk them. The flame doesn't suffer weakness."
Elias's stomach twisted. A test? He was barely holding himself together, his spark erratic and his mind cluttered with Kaylin's memories. The last thing he needed was another challenge.
The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, its ceiling lost in shadows. A river of molten fire flowed through the center, its surface shimmering with gold and crimson, casting a warm glow across the stone. Bridges of black obsidian arched over the river, their surfaces etched with more runes. The air hummed with power, making Elias's spark flare, its warmth spreading through his chest.
"Gods," Serina breathed, her eyes wide. "This is… incredible."
Zoryk's expression was somber. "The River of Embers. It feeds the Eternal Flame, or it did, before the Brotherhood dammed its flow. Stay sharp—this place isn't as empty as it looks."
Elias's spark pulsed again, stronger now, as if drawn to the river. He stepped closer, mesmerized by its glow. The flames seemed to whisper, their voices faint but familiar. *Kaylin*, they murmured, and another memory surged, vivid and overwhelming.
---
He was Kaylin, standing in a hall of crystal and fire, the River of Embers flowing at his feet. Lysa stood before him, her golden hair catching the light, her eyes filled with a mix of love and desperation. "You can't do this," she said, her voice breaking. "The Brotherhood's too strong, Kaylin. They'll kill you."
Kaylin's hand rested on his sword, its hilt warm from his fire. "They're poisoning the flame, Lysa," he said, his voice heavy. "Malik's leading them, twisting the fire into something dark. If I don't stop him, the Oblivion will rise."
Lysa grabbed his arm, her touch trembling. "Then let me fight with you. We're stronger together."
He shook his head, his heart aching. "I won't lose you. Not to him. Not to this."
She pulled away, tears streaming down her face. "You're choosing the flame over me," she whispered. "You always do."
The memory shifted, the hall dissolving into a battlefield. Flames roared, shadows screamed, and Kaylin fought alone, his sword cutting through enemies as Malik's laughter echoed. "You can't stop it, Kaylin!" Malik shouted, his own fire blazing, darker and colder than it should have been. "The Oblivion is inevitable!"
Kaylin fell, his body burning, his spark fading. Lysa's scream was the last thing he heard.
---
Elias gasped, stumbling back from the river. His knees buckled, and he would have fallen if Serina hadn't caught him, her arms steady despite her small frame. "Elias!" she said, her voice sharp with worry. "What's wrong?"
He clutched his head, the memory's pain lingering like a fresh wound. "Kaylin," he whispered. "He fought the Brotherhood. He… he lost. Lysa tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."
Serina's eyes widened, her grip tightening. "You saw her again? What else?"
Elias swallowed, his throat dry. "Malik. He was there, leading the Brotherhood. He betrayed Kaylin, turned the fire… wrong. And the Oblivion—it was part of it."
Zoryk's expression darkened, his hand resting on his sword. "Malik," he said, his voice low. "A name I haven't heard in years. If your memories are true, boy, you're carrying more than a spark. You're carrying a war."
Serina shot Zoryk a glare. "Enough with the cryptic nonsense. What do you know about Malik?"
Zoryk hesitated, his eyes flicking to the river. "Malik was a Flameborn, one of the greatest. But he wanted more—power, control. He sought the Oblivion, believing it could make him a god. The Brotherhood stopped him, or so they claim. But if your Kaylin fought him, and lost…" He trailed off, his jaw tight.
Elias's heart raced. A war? He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for any of this. But the spark in his chest burned, its warmth a reminder of Kaylin's resolve, of Lysa's tears. He couldn't run from it, not anymore.
Before he could speak, the cavern shook, a low rumble that sent ripples through the River of Embers. The runes on the walls flared, then dimmed, their glow unsteady. Serina's dagger was out in a flash, her eyes scanning the shadows. "What now?" she muttered.
Zoryk drew his sword, its runes glowing brighter than his tattoo. "The sanctuary's waking," he said, his voice grim. "The flame's testing us."
Elias's spark flared, its heat almost painful. "Testing us? With what?"
The answer came in a surge of fire from the river, a wave of molten flame that roared toward them. Elias dove, pulling Serina with him as the fire crashed against the obsidian bridge, sending shards of stone flying. The cavern filled with heat, the air shimmering as shapes emerged from the flames—humanoid figures, their bodies made of fire, their eyes glowing white.
"Emberwraiths," Zoryk said, his sword raised. "Guardians of the sanctuary. They'll burn anything they deem unworthy."
Serina cursed, her dagger useless against the wraiths. "Great. More things trying to kill us."
Elias scrambled to his feet, his spark roaring. The wraiths moved toward them, their flames crackling, their presence overwhelming. He didn't know how to fight them, but he could feel their judgment, a weight that pressed against his soul. *Prove yourself*, they seemed to say.
"Elias, do something!" Serina shouted, dodging a wraith's fiery claw.
He raised his hands, the spark coalescing into a flame, but it was unsteady, his fear creeping in. Kaylin's voice echoed in his mind. *"The fire is your will. Shape it. Command it."* He closed his eyes, focusing on the warmth, on the spark that had chosen him. The flame steadied, growing brighter, its glow matching the wraiths' fire.
"I'm not unworthy," he said, his voice firm. He thrust his hands forward, the flame erupting in a controlled wave, not wild but precise. It struck the nearest wraith, merging with its fire, and for a moment, they were one. The wraith's eyes softened, its form dissolving into sparks that drifted upward.
The other wraiths paused, their flames dimming. Then, as one, they bowed, their fires fading into the river. The cavern stilled, the runes glowing steadily once more.
Elias staggered, his vision swimming. Serina caught him again, her smirk returning. "Show-off," she said, but her voice was warm, almost proud.
Zoryk lowered his sword, his expression unreadable. "You passed," he said. "The flame sees you, boy. But the real test is still ahead."
Elias's chest heaved, the spark quiet now, its warmth a gentle hum. He looked at Serina, her face smudged with soot, her eyes bright with something he couldn't name. "Thanks," he said, his voice soft. "For not letting me fall."
She shrugged, but her smirk softened. "Don't get used to it, spark-boy."
As they crossed the obsidian bridge, the river's glow guiding their way, a new sound echoed through the cavern—a distant, guttural roar, not fire but something alive, something angry. Zoryk's hand tightened on his sword, his eyes narrowing. "We're not out of this yet," he said.
Elias's spark stirred, a warning. The sanctuary had let them pass, but something else was coming, something tied to the Oblivion, to Malik, to the war Kaylin had lost. And as the roar grew louder, Elias knew the fire's test was far from over.
---
Author's Note:
Flemborn, you're the best for taking on this epic! 🔥 Chapter 5 is *amazing* - Elias confronts the Ember Ghosts, Cailin's gut-wrenching scene, and the creepy roar at the end! 😱 What do you think of the next chapter? Is Zorek hiding something, or is it real? And how awesome is Elias and Serena's teamwork? Share your thoughts in the comments - I live for your theories! Next chapter, so hit the star button and add *Ashes* to your library to keep the flames burning. 💥
Note: Team Elias, Team Serena, or Team Zorek? Which one blew your mind more - the ghosts or that mysterious roar? Let's get excited! 👀
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