The northern wind carried the smell of iron.
We had been traveling for three days since Arvendall, following rumors about a fortress that "imprisoned light."
At first, I thought it was just another one of those local legends — until the sky started changing color.
Gray clouds swirled over the horizon like living smoke, and golden sparks escaped from them, rising instead of falling.
It was the kind of phenomenon that said: "Turn back now before the story gets worse."
But of course, no one suggested going back.
"Did you see that?" Vespera asked, pointing to the mountaintop.
A black structure rose between the peaks — towers connected by metallic chains glowing with runes.
And at their center, a sphere of trapped fire pulsed.
"Looks like someone decided to play at taming the impossible," I commented.
Celine narrowed her eyes. "That flame… it's not natural. It's one of the fragmented ones."
"They're appearing on their own now?" Elara asked.
"No. Someone is hunting them."
Liriel frowned. "Hunting… or collecting."
"Either option sounds terrible," said Vespera.
"And both sound familiar," I added.
We reached the foot of the mountain at nightfall.
The fortress was even more imposing up close — a wall covered in enchanted chains, with towers glowing in amber hues.
Guards patrolled the gates, but their eyes were empty, as if they acted by reflex, not will.
"They're not alive," Celine said, observing with the open grimoire. "They're artificial guardians — bodies sustained by control runes."
"And who would be the genius behind that?" I asked.
She hesitated. "If I'm right… it's someone we know."
Before I could insist, Vespera nudged me. "Two guards coming from the left. Want me to negotiate?"
"Negotiate in your vocabulary means explode, right?"
"Depends on the mood."
"Then no."
We managed to infiltrate through the tunnels beneath the wall.
The sound of chains echoed through the underground — metal creaking, as if the building itself breathed.
The walls had engraved inscriptions telling a fragmented story: symbols of imprisoned fire, scratched-out eyes, and the same phrase repeated dozens of times — "The flame must serve."
Liriel ran her fingers over the runes. "They believe the fire can be contained. That memory can be ordered."
"And can it?" I asked.
"No. It's like trying to trap a thought inside a stone."
Elara looked at me. "Seems the world is starting to fear what you carry."
"And I barely managed to get used to it," I murmured.
Celine suddenly stopped. "Listen."
A low, rhythmic sound pulsed ahead.
We followed the echo into a large chamber illuminated by golden fire.
At the center, a sphere floated inside a circle of chains.
And around it, dozens of figures — mages, soldiers, clerics — all motionless, eyes closed, as if bound by a single spell.
A man in a silver cloak stood up.
"I knew you would come," he said.
Celine stepped forward, surprised. "Sir Valtor?"
He smiled tiredly. "Celine… how long has it been? Five years?"
"More than ten."
"Ah. Then I can stop pretending I still have patience for speeches."
"You're controlling fragments of the flame," she said. "That's madness."
"Control is the only way to prevent another collapse. The fire needs an owner, or it will devour the world."
"That's not how you balance something alive," Liriel said.
Valtor raised his hand. Golden chains emerged from the floor, forming a circle around the sphere.
"Maybe not. But it's how you defeat fear."
The flame began to react.
The air grew hot, the chains vibrated, and an invisible force threw us backward. Valtor approached the fire, extending his staff.
"I saw what happened in Arvendall," he said. "I saw cities rebuilding themselves and collapsing again. The world can't handle so many memories, Takumi. It needs to forget."
"You're repeating Zephyron's mistake," I replied. "The difference is that he tried to erase out of guilt. You're doing it out of fear."
"And fear keeps the world alive!"
The chains shattered.
The fire exploded — but instead of spreading, it took shape — a creature made of golden light and black shadows, oscillating between beast and human.
It roared, and the fortress runes began to burn.
"Wonderful," Vespera said, stumbling back. "The beast is born."
"It's the reflection of the prison," Celine explained. "A flame that believes itself captive."
Valtor brandished his staff. "I will control it!"
"You won't make it," I shouted. "She's going to consume you!"
He laughed, manic. "Then we'll become one — and the world will forget!"
The creature lunged, and for an instant, Valtor and the fire became a single thing.
The impact brought part of the ceiling down.
We ran to the center of the room, trying to contain what remained.
Celine conjured containment seals, Liriel raised barriers, Elara fired enchanted arrows.
But it was useless.
The creature seemed to grow with every attempt to restrain it.
"Takumi!" Celine shouted. "The flame recognizes you — try calling it!"
"Calling a fire monster. Great plan."
"Trust!"
I took a deep breath. The fire inside me responded, pulsing.
"Hey!" I yelled at the creature. "You're not a prison! You're memory!"
The monster stopped for a moment, its eyes of light turning toward me.
Inside them, I saw something familiar — the same desperation I saw in Zephyron.
"You want to be free, don't you?"
It roared, and the room shook.
"Then burn with me!"
I opened my arms, letting the blue-gold flame burst out.
It merged with the creature, and for a moment, everything was silent — only the sound of chains breaking.
When the light faded, Valtor was kneeling in the center, exhausted but alive.
The fire had disappeared.
Celine ran to him. "Are you okay?"
"I... saw," he murmured. "I saw what the fire wanted. It just wanted to exist without fear."
"Then learn from that," I replied.
He nodded, then looked at me. "The flame chose you, kid. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse... but it's real."
We left the fortress at dawn.
The sky was clear, and the broken chains glimmered like old gold.
The air felt lighter.
"Another city saved, another trauma added to the list," Vespera commented.
"This time, without unnecessary explosions," Elara said.
"Hey, I held back. That's progress."
Liriel watched the ruins. "Valtor was partly right. Fear is powerful. But forgetting is even more dangerous."
Celine sighed. "And now the entire world has begun to remember. Every flame freed is a story rising to the surface. And no memory comes without a price."
I looked toward the horizon.
The fire inside me flickered silently.
"So the price is to keep walking," I said. "Even when the world doesn't want to remember."
"You talk pretty when you're not complaining," Vespera said.
"It's the protagonist's talent," I replied, smiling.
She laughed. "Then enjoy it before destiny charges you interest."
We set up camp on the plain, and the sunset painted the sky red.
The flame in my chest calmed, pulsing in a slow, almost human rhythm.
While the others slept, I kept watching the glow of the broken chains in the distance.
The wind carried the sound of them clinking — soft, almost like bells.
"Did you see?" I asked quietly.
The flame answered, like a warm whisper in my mind.
"I saw. Fear tries to bind fire. But fire learns to dance with fear."
I smiled. "Then let's dance a little more."
The wind blew, sending golden sparks into the night sky.
And for the first time since Kareth, the silence felt at peace.