They emerged from Emberfall changed. Not just Belarion—whose soul now carried flecks of divine mourning flame—but Kaelira too, whose aura thrummed with ancient resonance. Something had awakened in both of them.
Atop the Ashspire Peak, the Sect of Ashen Hollow held its first full conclave since the conquest. Disciples lined the basalt stairs. Grandmasters whispered rumors of an ancient force returning. And in the sky above the mountain, a tear had formed.
Not a rift.
A crack.
As if reality itself was resisting what Belarion had stirred.
System alert flickered.
[World Threat Level Adjusted: "Tectonic Disturbance – Cause: Spiritual Anomaly Detected Below Surface. Effect: Dimensional Layer Stress."]
[Quest Update: Seek the Dreamer's Temple. Location: Moving. Tracking Enabled.]
Kaelira frowned. "The Temple is moving?"
"Drifting," Belarion corrected. "It's not a place—it's a dream, tethered to a divine spark. Vaerok never built his temple. He imagined it into existence."
Entering the Dreamveil
The only way to find a drifting temple of dreamfire was to enter the Dreamveil—a spiritual layer between consciousness and origin. To breach it, Belarion constructed a Dreamforge Sigil, powered by the flame of mourning.
It wasn't easy.
He bled memories into the glyph. His first death. His second birth. The System's voice. The warmth of a sunrise after exile. Each memory a toll. Each flicker of emotion, a price.
Then the gate opened.
He and Kaelira passed into the Dreamveil.
The world became a field of glowing glass, reflecting skies that had never existed. Giant sleepwalkers—beings made of mist and forgotten thoughts—wandered past, unaware. A moon hung overhead, cracked with rivers of starlight.
[System Warning: Dreamveil does not follow the Logic of Flame. Skills and techniques may misbehave. Proceed with inner clarity.]
"Where do we go?" Kaelira asked.
"Toward the song."
He didn't explain. He didn't need to. It thrummed in his soul like a melody trapped in embers—Vaerok's song.
The Temple of the Dreamer
The temple revealed itself not by appearance but memory. The closer they came, the more Belarion remembered things he'd never lived:
—Meditating beside a pool of starlit oil.
—Forging flame from sorrow.
—Singing to the stars until they wept fire.
The Temple was circular. White flame danced upside down along its arches. Within, a single throne hovered over a pool of lucid fire.
And on it sat Vaerok.
Not awake. Not fully.
Dreaming.
He was a being of unbound flame and starlight, crowned with a halo of ember feathers. His voice reached them through neither mouth nor system, but resonance.
"You carry the flame that mourns. Speak."
Belarion stepped forward. "I seek understanding. Why do I remember what I have not lived?"
"Because fire remembers all who have touched it. Even across rebirths. Even across deaths."
Vaerok's eyes opened—not fully. Just enough to let a sliver of flame through.
"You are the Sparkborn. The one whose fire is not bound to a source, but to will. And you've begun to awaken the Second Flame."
Kaelira blinked. "Second? What was the first?"
"The Flame of Origin. Which all fire descends from. But the Second Flame is born of grief, sacrifice… and choice. It cannot be taken. Only earned."
System buzzed.
[Unique Questline Advancement: Sparkborn Revelation (3/7)]
[New Skill Seed: Willfire — The power to set reality alight based on emotional resonance.]
Belarion clenched his fists. "What comes next?"
Vaerok faded, his form dimming.
"You must burn your name into fate. Not as savior. Not as tyrant. But as one who chooses. Then… return to where it all ended before. The Isle of First Silence."
The temple began to collapse. The dream was ending.
Flight Through a Dying Dream
The temple cracked apart as time unraveled.
Kaelira summoned stormwinds to carry them out. Belarion ignited a firestorm from within his veins. Together, they soared through shards of fading memory and lightning-wrought gravity.
Behind them, Vaerok's final echo reached them:
"The gods remember you, Sparkborn. And they are afraid."
They emerged through the Dreamforge Gate, collapsing in the sanctum.
The disciples were gathered. The sky outside was no longer cracked—it now bled. Crimson auroras rippled above the mountains.
[World Notice: A Divine Memory Has Stirred. Global Awareness Increased. Opposing Powers Notified.]
Kaelira looked to Belarion.
"What now?"
He stood, eyes glowing with truth and fire.
"Now, we make them remember why they feared fire in the first place."
End of Chapter 9
Next: Chapter 10 – The Isle of First Silence.