THE AMBUSH
The ruins of the old temple stood like broken bones beneath the moon. Jagged marble pillars clawed at the sky, and vines spilled over the shattered arches like bleeding veins. Snow dusted the ancient stone, softening the edges, but it could not mask what had once happened here—or what would happen again tonight.
A brazier burned low near the altar. Beside it stood Blythe.
She was dressed not as a queen but as a priestess—hood drawn low, ceremonial white robes fluttering in the breeze, crimson embroidery woven across her sleeves like ivy soaked in blood. Her fingers curled around the staff she'd once seen her mother hold in rites of peace.
Tonight, it would bear
THE UMBRA CONVERTThe Cell Beneath the Pyre HallsA dimly lit stone chamber beneath the Pyre Halls. The walls are marked with ancient symbols, and chains hang unused from the ceiling. The flickering torchlight casts long shadows as Xavier, Ceres, and Maera enter the chamber. In the center, a pale woman sits shackled—her cloak threadbare, her hair loose, but her gaze sharp. She’s weakened, but not broken.Xavier (coldly): “You requested an audience. I’m listening.”Umbra Assassin (smiling faintly): “Not a request. A bargain.”Ceres (arms crossed, wary): “You&rsqu
SMOKE BETWEEN USThe Cracking HallsThe war room beneath the ruined high chamber is now converted into a command center. Cracked pillars hold up sagging stonework. Torches burn low. Xavier stands over a tactical map riddled with flame markers. Ceres enters, her cloak trailing ash.Xavier (gruffly, without looking up): "He moved the Flame Knights again. Northeast border. He wants us to think he's circling, but Arion's going for the heart."Ceres (calmly): "He wants us to be afraid. But not every move is fire and swords. Sometimes power lies in restraint."Xavier (snapping): "Restraint? You think the bastard wh
THE LEGACY FRACTURESThe Vote of ShadowsCouncil Hall, CapitalThe Provisional Council sits in a circle of obsidian thrones in the ruined High Temple hall, scorched and hastily reconstructed. Cracks line the marble floor like a map of division. Rain pounds the skylights, but inside, the air is thick with dread.Councilman Tarek (rubbing his temple):"We've received Arion's latest decree. He offers peace... if we disband the Flame Line entirely and crown him by bloodright."Councilwoman Maldra (dryly):"And if we don't?"
THREE FLAMES, ONE GRAVEArrival at AshgraveA veil of volcanic ash rains gently as Xavier, Ceres, and Maera approach the ancient caldera known as Ashgrave. The landscape is scorched black and red, steaming in places. Jagged peaks encircle the bowl of the grave like broken teeth. Fire dances below the obsidian floor—alive, whispering.Maera (holding her hood against the heat):“Even the wind here burns with memory. This is where they laid the first Flamebloods. And where some say the flame itself first bled.”Xavier (scanning the ash-covered terrain):&ldquo
THE QUEEN IN THE UNDERGROUNDThe Secret PassageCeres's boots echo against damp stone as she descends the narrow tunnel beneath the western wing of the palace. She carries a lantern made of flame crystal, its glow casting flickers against the crumbling walls.Ceres (murmuring to herself): "This tunnel wasn't on any map. Not even Maera knew the path. So why would she send me here?"A whisper of air brushes her cheek. The stones seem to pulse faintly as though remembering old secrets.Ceres
WHAT WOLVES DO IN DARKNESSThe Fire That SpeaksAcross the realm. Fires flare to life from crumbling villages to distant strongholds—not from wood or oil, but from sigil-burned stones. Wolves pause as the flames dance, then shift into images. Arion's voice rises in every hearth, every campfire, every pyre.Arion (projected from flame, voice smooth, commanding):"Brothers. Sisters. Heirs of Ash. You were not born to kneel beneath crumbling thrones. You were forged for more."In the capital, Xavier, Ceres, and Maera stand before one such flame inside the war chamber. Councilmen and rebel generals gather behind them, gr