The Frostlands stretched endlessly beneath us, a frozen ocean of white and blue ridges that sparkled under the fading sun. The deeper we flew into its territory, the more it felt like entering the belly of a sleeping beast. The skies above were slate-gray, smeared with high winds that threatened to shove Skyflare off course, while below us, the snow-covered mountains rose like jagged teeth, hungry for blood.
It had been hours since our encounter with Commander Lysara and her Wraithguard, but the sting of her words lingered in the air like smoke. The memory of the Mirror's shattering the warped sound of my name twisted through ice reverberated in my mind, echoing like a curse.
Skyflare flew silently now, its flames dimmed in deference to the cold, its mighty wings slicing through the thin, bitter air. I rode near its head, my thoughts heavy, the Spark inside me flickering irregularly as if mourning a loss it could not explain. Kaela sat just behind me, quiet and watchful. Dareth had retreated into his usual stoic shell, brooding near the rear saddle ring, his knuckles white around the hilt of Virell.
No one spoke.
The wind did all the talking.
The Spark's Signal
I didn't feel the pull at first it was subtle, a tiny ripple across my chest, like a breath drawn too sharply. But within moments, it deepened into something undeniable.
A pulse.
A rhythmic tug deep in my bones, synced with the heart of the Sixth Spark.
"Something's calling," I said aloud, breaking the silence.
Kaela stirred. "What is it?"
"I don't know," I replied, narrowing my eyes against the glare of the snow. "But it's… down there."
I pointed to a wide, bowl-shaped basin below, ringed by jagged peaks and crystalline cliffs that shimmered faintly beneath a dusting of windblown frost.
Dareth followed my gaze. "This region doesn't appear on any of the old maps. Could be an anomaly."
"Or a burial ground," Kaela added grimly.
"Or a sanctuary," I whispered, feeling the pulse again stronger now.
I raised my hand and issued the landing command. "Bratheon."
Skyflare responded with a low growl and began to descend in slow, calculated spirals. Flames curled around its wings as it cut through the winds, landing with a thud that shook loose snow from the nearest cliffside.
We dismounted, our boots crunching on the snow-laced stone.
Immediately, I felt it.
The air was… alive.
Not with cold, but with memory.
The Forgotten Basin
The snow here glowed faintly from beneath, as though lit by dying embers buried under layers of frost. It wasn't natural not enchanted either. It was ancient. The Spark inside me surged with recognition.
I knelt down, pressing my gloved hand to the snow.
A wave of flame pulsed outward, melting a perfect circle and revealing scorched runes carved into obsidian stone. They shimmered with a soft golden light.
Kaela moved closer, eyes narrowing. "Those look like Flameborn glyphs."
"They are," I said. "A memory seal."
"What kind?" Dareth asked.
I examined the pattern. "It's not meant to lock something away it's meant to guide. A signpost left by someone with the Spark."
I whispered the activation word: "Serakai."
The ground beneath us trembled.
Snow fell away in great gusts as a hidden spiral staircase revealed itself, descending deep into the earth like a flame-tempered spine. The passage was lined with glowing sigils, each pulsing slowly as if waking from sleep.
Kaela whistled low. "Whatever's down there… it's been waiting."
The Subterranean Chamber
We descended in silence, torches flickering though we barely needed them the walls themselves glowed faintly with everburning symbols. As we moved deeper, the air warmed slightly, and the cold no longer bit into our skin.
At the bottom of the stairwell, we emerged into a vast, domed chamber, at least a hundred paces across. Its walls were carved with ancient murals, depicting flame-wielders raising great cities, confronting beasts of ice, and standing united against a crowned figure cloaked in shadows.
In the center of the room stood a five-pronged pedestal of obsidian.
Each prong held a broken fragment of crystal.
All but one.
The largest shard glowed faintly, a flicker of fire dancing within it.
I approached slowly, reverently.
Kaela whispered, "That's part of the Mirror, isn't it?"
I nodded. "The first shard."
As I reached out, the Spark inside me surged.
When my fingers touched the shard, my mind exploded with images.
A Memory Preserved
I saw a corridor of ice, torchlight flickering on crystal walls.
A figure cloaked, limping, bloodied clutched the Mirror in both hands. They were being pursued. Wraithguard behind them, blades drawn, moving without sound. The figure whispered to the Mirror, and it responded not with words, but with light.
They performed a ritual.
The Mirror fractured.
Five pieces spiraled outward, each swallowed by different bursts of magic one flame, one wind, one stone, one shadow, one frost.
And then the figure collapsed, their face hidden.
But before the vision ended, they looked directly at me through the fragment's light.
And they smiled.
A voice echoed faintly:
"The truth is buried in five. Find them, and find yourself."
I gasped, stumbling back.
Kaela caught me. "What did you see?"
"Someone saved the Mirror," I said, voice hoarse. "Split it before Lysara could corrupt it fully. Hid the pieces across the continent."
Dareth furrowed his brow. "That's suicide. The Empire's watching every corner of the Frostlands."
"Then someone risked everything to preserve the truth," I said. "And they want us to finish what they started."
I picked up the shard.
Its heat spread into my palm, not burning, but binding.
"Then we will."
The Next Step
We couldn't stay.
This place was sacred, but not safe. The moment I took the shard, the Spark warned me—others had felt its pulse too. The Empire would be coming.
Kaela packed the shard into a flameproof satchel reinforced with warded threads. Dareth scouted the upper ridge.
When we emerged from the chamber, the wind had shifted again no longer random, but pushing east.
I turned toward the horizon.
"We head to the Ember Circle," I said.
Dareth raised a brow. "The Circle's a myth."
"Not to the Spark," I replied. "It remembers. And if we're going to survive what's coming, we need its guidance."
Skyflare landed beside us again, flames flaring with urgency. We mounted quickly, the shard between us glowing brighter with every moment.
As we took off into the sky, I looked back at the basin below.
One piece recovered.
Four to go.
And with them, the key to not just defeating the Empire but reclaiming everything we lost.
The sky opened before us.
The hunt for truth had begun.