"When the sky-kingdom fell, it did not shatter like glass.
It screamed, like a beast dragged from the heavens."
— The Last Skykeeper, sealed record of the Council of Brands
---
I.
High above the shattered spines of the earth, past the stormwalls and sun-split clouds, hovered the floating city of Aerodahl — the last bastion of the Skyborn. Its towers of living crystal drank the morning light like wine, and its streets shimmered with the weight of old magic.
Here, arrogance was bred, not learned.
For Aerodahl was the seat of the Council of Brands, the lawmakers of Sigilkind — those who decided which bloodlines lived, and which were erased.
They did not fear gods.
They thought themselves above them.
But beneath their golden floorboards, a crack had formed — small, red, and glowing like a coal buried in silk.
A name had returned.
> Reginal J. Ashveil.
---
II.
The Council gathered in the Celesthall, robes heavy with enchantments, eyes made of rune-glass.
> "The Nullborn has awakened a Forbidden Path," hissed Lord Belak of the Writed Flame.
> "The Crimson Fang should've died with the old warlords," muttered Archbrand Osylla, whose tongue had been replaced by living ink.
> "And yet, it sings again," growled Brandmaster Vhult, keeper of the Ninth Seal.
The decision was swift — and cruel.
> "Unleash the Fang-Eater."
Beneath Aerodahl's lowest vault, wrapped in chains forged from moon-iron and Godsbane bone, slept a creature that once hunted Devourer Kings for sport.
It did not hunger for food.
It hungered for Fangs.
---
III.
Meanwhile, in the mountains of Gravemount, Reginal stood on a ridge of stone as red mist rose from below. Around him, the fortress of Embersong rose like a beast's ribcage — towers forged from blacksteel, bones, and ruin.
> "They've unleashed something," Milo muttered, sniffing the air.
"It smells like… war and extinction."
> "I felt it too," said Kammy, her blades humming. "Something that remembers killing men like you."
Reginal unsheathed his spine-forged blade.
> "Then let it remember fear."
---
IV.
The Fang-Eater struck first.
Not with armies — with skyfire.
A comet of black flame tore through the clouds and slammed into Gravemount's gate. Creatures poured forth — fangless, eyeless, shaped like regrets left too long in the dark. They bled silence. They bled unmaking.
Reginal moved like prophecy unleashed.
His blade roared, his armor fed. Every strike burned with memories — not his own, but those of fallen warriors from ages past.
Kammy danced between shadows, slicing not bodies but intentions, unraveling spells before they could cast.
Milo, wreathed in lunar fury, tore through beasts like a storm given shape. At one point, he took a spear to the gut and simply bit the wielder's neck in two.
They held the line.
Until it descended.
---
V.
The Fang-Eater dropped from the skies like a dead star. Eight arms. Seven eyes. No mouth — only a maw across its chest, lined with blades made from the sigils of those it had devoured.
It towered over the fortress.
Reginal stepped forward.
> "Tell me," he growled, "did the Council send you to kill me?"
The Fang-Eater did not speak. It screamed, and the scream tore the clouds apart.
Then it charged.
---
VI.
The battle shook the continent.
Kammy's illusions failed against it. Milo was flung into a tower, breaking bone and steel. The Fang-Eater's touch melted the stone beneath it.
But Reginal… laughed.
> "I wondered what pain felt like again," he whispered, blood spilling from his eyes.
He dropped his sword.
His armor opened.
The living metal peeled back, revealing a second form beneath — darker, crueler, lined with glowing glyphs from a language no longer spoken.
> Crimson Sovereign Form: Devourer Aspect.
He didn't strike the Fang-Eater.
He touched it.
And the creature began to scream not from rage — but from memory.
It remembered the Devourer King.
It remembered losing.
And it broke.
Reginal tore the sigil from its heart — a jagged fragment of the old god it once served — and consumed it.
When he turned to face Kammy and Milo again, the red mist spiraled into his skin.
> "I know what I am now," he said.
> "What's that?" Milo croaked.
> "Not just a king."
"A curse made flesh."
---
VII.
Far away, Aerodahl's crystal floors cracked.
Brandmaster Vhult fell to his knees.
> "The Fang-Eater is gone…"
> "No," whispered Osylla, her ink bleeding down her throat.
> "It was devoured."
In that moment, all of Val'Khora felt it:
Reginal J. Ashveil was no longer rising.
He had arrived.
---
[End of Chapter III]
Chapter IV – "The Pact of Embers" coming next…