The mountains weren't as kind as they once seemed. The biting cold was no longer just a chill—it was a warning. The snow that crunched underfoot carried the weight of something dark, something ancient. Every step that the brothers took up the mountain was a step further from safety, from comfort. The wind howled with a kind of fury, as if the very air was trying to drive them back.
As the first light of dawn hit the peaks, the world below remained silent. It was as though even the earth itself was holding its breath.
"I swear, next time I reincarnate, I'm choosing somewhere with better weather," Lucien muttered under his breath, tying his scarf tighter around his neck, his voice a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion.
Ayden, trudging ahead with his head down against the wind, shot him a sideways glance. "At least the monsters around here are frozen stiff. We have that going for us."
Rei, walking beside Cain, remained silent. Her eyes were far away, scanning the world around them, taking in more than they could see. Cain noticed the way her fingers moved slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if brushing against something invisible. It was a quiet reminder that Rei was always aware, always listening to the things that others couldn't hear.
"This mountain is sacred," she spoke suddenly, her voice cutting through the cold air. "But not to us, not to humans, and not to vampires. To something older. Something that doesn't like visitors."
Ayden raised an eyebrow. "Great. Cryptic mountain warnings. That's exactly what I needed today."
Cain, who had been lost in his thoughts, finally broke his silence. "It's not the mountain we need to worry about. It's what's guarding it."
Rei glanced over at him, giving him a long look. She wasn't asking for more information, just understanding the weight of the words he had spoken. But the moment passed, and she moved ahead, leading the way as they approached the mouth of the mountain's hidden temple.
At the entrance, the stone doors were overrun with thick vines, frozen into place by the harsh winds. It looked as if time itself had been sealed inside the temple. Lucien stepped forward and placed his hand on the door, feeling a strange, pulsing energy beneath his fingers.
"This doesn't look welcoming," Lucien muttered.
"It's not supposed to," Corin's voice suddenly cut through the tension, his form appearing from behind the group. "This place isn't for the faint of heart. I suggest we be quick."
"Didn't ask for your help," Ayden snapped, unsheathing his dagger.
"Neither did I," Corin replied coolly. "But here we are, and if it helps keep you alive, then you're welcome."
Rei reached out and placed a hand on the door. It opened slowly, revealing a dark, shadowy interior flickering with blue and orange fire. The flame danced in mid-air, as though alive, casting strange, ghostly shadows across the walls. Murals adorned the stone, depicting winged figures locked in eternal battle with shadow serpents.
At the center of the temple, a pyre stood—cold and untouched, but it radiated an eerie power. The flames that had once been here had long since died, leaving only an ominous silence in their wake.
"That's where the guardian sleeps," Rei whispered, barely more than a breath.
"And how do we wake him?" Lucien asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.
Corin raised an eyebrow. "You don't. The flame chooses when it's time to wake. Or it doesn't."
"Of course," Ayden said dryly, his voice laced with frustration. "Because nothing in this world can ever just be easy."
Cain stepped forward, his gaze locked onto the pyre. He could feel the pull of something ancient, something that recognized his blood. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the scroll that Kiralyn had given him. It hummed with power, a pulse that seemed to match the rhythm of his own heartbeat.
He placed the scroll at the base of the pyre, and immediately, the room trembled. Flames surged from the walls, twisting into the shape of a man—broad-shouldered, with eyes that burned like suns. A sword of ash and ember rested across his back, glowing faintly in the darkened room.
The guardian's eyes snapped open.
"You bear the blood of Him," the guardian's voice was like thunder, deep and ancient, shaking the very air around them. "Why should I not burn you where you stand?"
Cain stepped forward, unflinching. "Because we're not our father."
The guardian's gaze was unrelenting. "Lies. He made you. You carry his rot in your veins."
Rei stepped forward, standing tall in the face of the overwhelming heat. "He may carry the blood, but he does not carry the same path. That is enough."
The flame-man stared at Rei for a long moment before his eyes shifted back to Cain. "You are the Oracle's child. The one who walks between the worlds of light and shadow. I remember when you were born. The moon turned black for seven minutes."
Cain's breath hitched slightly. He had heard whispers about the night of his birth—how it had been marked by darkness, by an omen. But hearing the guardian speak of it so casually sent a chill down his spine.
"We don't have time to trade stories," Cain said, his voice steady, despite the chaos boiling inside him. "The seals are breaking. We need your help."
The guardian studied him, his fiery gaze piercing through Cain's soul. Then, without warning, he raised his hand.
The pyre erupted into flames.
Cain let out a strangled cry as the fire consumed him, but strangely, he didn't burn. Instead, his mind was flooded with visions. A city in ruins, the cries of a child, a figure standing tall in the ashes of a fallen kingdom. His father's face, smiling over a mountain of bodies. His own hands, stained red with blood.
A whisper followed the images, soft but clear.
"If the only way to stop your father… is to become him… would you?"
Cain hesitated. The fire roared around him, but his body remained untouched, as if time itself was frozen.
Finally, the fire began to dim, and Cain collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. The flames had vanished, but something inside him had shifted. His eyes, once the color of the sky, now glowed faintly with an ember-like hue.
Varos, the guardian, knelt before him, placing a hand on Cain's shoulder.
"Then you are worthy," the guardian spoke, his voice like the crackling of a fire long burned out.
The guardian pulled something from the heart of the pyre—an ember, glowing bright with ancient fire. He placed it in Cain's hand, the warmth of it both unsettling and comforting.
"Keep it safe," Varos said. "The next test will not be of your mind, but of your soul."
The brothers lingered in the temple that night, the air thick with the tension of their unspoken thoughts. Corin watched the flames, ever vigilant, while Lucien stayed close to Cain, whose silence had grown heavier.
"Are you okay?" Lucien asked quietly.
Cain shook his head. "I think I just pissed off something older than gods."
Rei approached, her voice soft. "You saw it, didn't you? What was in the fire?"
Cain didn't answer immediately. "I saw my mother. She was crying, not for me, but for him. For my father."
Rei paused. "Maybe she knew what he would become."
Cain's gaze hardened. "Or maybe she knew what I would have to become."
Outside, Ayden's sharp eyes caught movement. A figure in red robes, standing in the distance with a smile that didn't belong to her face.
The wind shifted, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath.
A forgotten god was waking. And the sons of the devil were no longer just survivors—they were players in a game far darker than they'd ever imagined.