Five days from Noctis's forest.
The journey took me through lands I'd never seen—rolling plains, ancient ruins, villages where people stared at the stranger passing through. I stopped rarely, resting only when necessary, driven by the ticking clock Oracle had given me.
One year. Three hundred sixty-five days.
The desert appeared on the horizon like a wound in the world. Endless sand. Blistering heat. Sky so pale it hurt to look at.
Somewhere in that vastness, Ignis waited.
God of fire. God of forge. God of creation and destruction.
---
The Edge
I reached the desert's edge at sunset.
A small trading post marked the boundary—tents, animals, travelers preparing for the dangerous crossing. I stopped to resupply, to ask questions, to learn what I could about the god I sought.
An old merchant shared tea by firelight.
"Ignis." He spat the name. "Fire god. Forge god. Mad god." He shook his head. "People who go looking for him don't come back."
"Have you met anyone who tried?"
"Tried? Yes. Succeeded?" He laughed bitterly. "No. The desert takes them. Or he does. Same thing, really."
I sipped my tea. "Why do they go?"
"Fools seeking power. Desperates seeking miracles. Lovers seeking lost loves." He looked at me. "Which are you?"
"Someone who needs his help. For something bigger than all of us."
The old man studied me for a long moment.
"You're different. I'll give you that." He pointed east. "Three days that way, there's a canyon. In its heart, a forge that never stops burning. That's where he lives—if you can call it living."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank me if you come back."
I finished my tea. Prepared to leave.
"Wait." The old man stood. "Take this." He pressed a waterskin into my hands. "More than you'll need. The desert doesn't forgive mistakes."
I accepted it. Met his eyes.
"I'll come back. I promise."
He nodded slowly. "See that you do."
---
Day 1 – The Desert
Dawn brought heat like a physical force.
I'd experienced desert before—Solara's domain—but this was different. More intense. More angry. The sun here didn't just shine; it attacked.
I walked in the cool hours—dawn and dusk—resting during midday in whatever shade I could find. The waterskin helped. The stone pulsed steadily, guiding me toward the canyon.
By nightfall on the first day, I'd covered more ground than expected. The desert seemed to want me to reach Ignis quickly. Or maybe it wanted to get rid of me.
Hard to tell.
---
Night 1 – The Vision
I dreamed of fire.
Not destruction—creation. A forge blazing in darkness. Sparks becoming stars. Heat giving birth to worlds.
In the center stood a figure—massive, powerful, burning. His hands moved with impossible skill, shaping metal that glowed like captured sunlight.
"You seek me." His voice was fire. "Why?"
"War is coming. The first immortal. We need you."
He laughed—a sound like exploding furnaces. "The first immortal. I remember when he was just a boy. Brilliant. Desperate. Foolish."
"You knew him?"
"I knew everyone. Once." The figure turned. His face was ancient, scarred, wise. "I gave him his first weapon. A dagger, small and simple. He used it to kill his first god."
I stared. "You helped him?"
"I helped everyone. That was my mistake." The figure—Ignis—shook his head. "I've spent centuries hiding from that mistake. Now you come asking for help again."
"I'm not asking for weapons. I'm asking for unity. The gods need to stand together."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"Together. After everything. After they let me burn alone."
"You're not alone. None of you are."
The vision faded.
I woke in darkness, heart pounding, the stone blazing against my chest.
---
Day 2 – Deeper
I walked through endless sand.
The heat grew worse as I approached the canyon. My skin burned despite protections. My water dwindled despite rationing. The stone pulsed urgently—faster, faster—as if it sensed something ahead.
By evening, I reached the canyon's edge.
It stretched before me like a wound in the earth—vast, deep, alive. Light flickered at its bottom. Heat rose in visible waves. The air itself seemed to shimmer with power.
I began the descent.
---
The Forge
It took hours to reach the bottom.
The path was treacherous—loose rock, sudden drops, pockets of superheated air that could kill in seconds. I moved carefully, using every skill learned in years of combat and survival.
The forge revealed itself slowly.
First, the glow—intense, pulsing, living. Then, the sound—hammer on metal, rhythmic and hypnotic. Finally, the figure—massive, shirtless, muscles gleaming with sweat, working at an anvil that seemed part of the mountain itself.
I stopped at the edge of his light.
"Ignis."
He didn't pause. "You're persistent. I'll give you that."
"Oracle sent me. And Mira. And Solara. And Theron. And Noctis."
His hammer stopped.
He turned.
Up close, he was terrifying—tall as Valdur, broad as Theron, with eyes that held the heat of dying stars. But his expression... his expression held something unexpected.
Longing.
"They're alive?"
"All of them. Waiting. Hiding. Hoping."
He set down his hammer. Walked toward me.
"How?"
I told him everything. The Network. The first immortal. The gathering of gods. Serena. The year we had left.
He listened without interrupting. When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
"I've been here for centuries," he said finally. "Alone. Working. Forgetting." He looked at his hands—calloused, burned, tired. "I thought they were all dead. Every god I'd ever known."
"They're not. They're waiting for you."
He met my eyes. For the first time, I saw something other than fire in them.
"Take my blessing, Ren. Take my fire. And tell the others... tell them the forge still burns."
He pressed his hands to my shoulders.
Fire flooded through me—not painful, but transformative. Like being remade in flame.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Ignis's Blessing Received
· +25% resistance to fire
· New ability: [FORGE TOUCH] – can temporarily enhance weapons/armor with fire (once per day)
· New insight: The first immortal's original weapon (Ignis's dagger) still exists. It can hurt him permanently.
---
The Dagger
I asked about it before leaving.
"The dagger you made him. The one he used for his first kill. Does it still exist?"
Ignis nodded slowly. "I've sensed it over the years. The Network keeps it in a vault. Somewhere secure. They know what it is—what it can do."
"Can it kill him? Permanently?"
"Nothing can kill him permanently. But that dagger... it can wound him in ways that don't heal. Remind him of what he was. What he lost." Ignis met my eyes. "If you find it—if you use it at the right moment, with the right intent—it could break through his defenses. Make him vulnerable."
"Where is it?"
"I don't know exactly. But I know who does." He gestured vaguely. "There's a Network archive. A central repository of their most valuable artifacts. The dagger will be there."
"Where's the archive?"
"That's what you'll need to find out."
I nodded. Added it to the mental list.
One dagger. One archive. One more piece of the puzzle.
---
The Ascent
I left Ignis's forge at dawn.
He stood at the canyon's edge, watching me climb—a figure wreathed in heat, raising a hand in farewell.
I raised mine in return.
Two temples remained. Two gods still waiting.
And somewhere, in a Network vault, a dagger waited too.
---
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Blessing: Ignis (Fire/Forge)
Remaining Temples: 2
Progress: 10 of 12 gods located
New Information:
· The first immortal's original dagger exists
· Location: Network central archive (unknown)
· The dagger can wound him permanently.