Chapter Summary:
Following the map found in Caldrith Hollow, Echo and Kael journey to the desolate expanse of the Seravon Wastes. There, in a buried fortress rumored to have once housed a flame cult, lies the third shard. But they're not the only ones chasing it. A ruthless mercenary queen with ties to Kael's forgotten past stakes her claim—and her price is blood.
Chapter 84: Desert of Echoes
The sun was a monster in Seravon.
Not golden or gentle—white-hot and brutal, glaring down like an angry god over a kingdom of dust. The wind hissed constantly, whispering secrets in tongues long dead, and the sky held no promise of shade.
Echo pulled her scarf tighter around her face as the sand shifted beneath her boots.
"You sure this is the right direction?" she asked.
Kael studied the flickering projection from his handheld compass, its glow warped by the desert heat. "The coordinates from the Embercell match this ridge. There's supposed to be a vault under the sand."
Echo narrowed her eyes across the dunes.
"If the sand hasn't swallowed it whole."
They reached the ruins by twilight.
Cracked obsidian towers jutted from the dunes like broken teeth. A collapsed dome marked the center—half-buried, half-burned. Even in the fading light, the walls pulsed faintly with heat.
"This used to be a cult stronghold," Kael muttered, brushing away the sand from a faded sigil—flame spiraling into an eye.
"Flame Seers," Echo whispered. "They believed relics were divine vessels, not weapons."
"And yet they died like everyone else."
A low hum rippled beneath the sand.
Echo's breath caught. "There. Underneath."
Kael found the entrance: a jagged break in the stone leading into darkness.
"No guards," he said.
"No signs of life," Echo added.
They exchanged a glance.
"That's the part that scares me."
The vault was different.
Older than the Embercell. Wilder than the Hollow.
It spiraled downward in a labyrinth of molten stone and forgotten scripture. Runes flickered on the walls as they passed, responding not to light—but lineage.
"This place remembers your blood," Kael said quietly.
"I think it remembers yours too," she said, eyes drifting to the way the torches flared brighter around him.
But before he could answer—
Boom.
The ceiling behind them collapsed.
A figure dropped through the dust and smoke.
Cloaked in armor of silver-gold flame, flanked by soldiers bearing sand-forged blades.
At the center, a woman.
Tall. Dark-skinned. Gold tattoos carved into her collarbone. Eyes like scorched topaz.
"Echo Vale," she said, voice like fire and silk. "And Kael Varin."
Echo stepped forward. "You know us?"
The woman smiled. "Oh, I know him very well."
Kael went still.
Echo looked at him. "Kael?"
He didn't move.
"Say her name," the woman teased.
He swallowed. "Araya."
Araya Varin.
His sister.
Dead. Or so he'd claimed.
"I watched you die," Kael said, voice raw. "I buried your blade."
"And I buried the old world," Araya replied. "But here I am. More flame than flesh."
She walked past Echo like she didn't exist, all her attention fixed on her brother.
"I warned you what would happen if you betrayed the Syndicate."
"I left because they turned on the people," Kael shot back. "We were supposed to fight for change, not conquest."
Araya's smile vanished.
"You're still so soft." She turned to Echo. "And you—you're trying to become what your mother failed to be. Heir. Warrior. Flamekeeper."
Echo raised her chin. "And you're here for the relic."
"I already have it," Araya said, snapping her fingers.
A soldier stepped forward, holding a shard in a flameproof clasp.
It pulsed black-red.
Angrier than the last two. And heavier.
Kael stepped forward. "You don't know what you're carrying."
"Oh, I know exactly what it is," Araya replied. "And what it unlocks."
Echo drew her dagger. "Then you know you can't keep it."
Araya smiled faintly.
"You're right. I don't want to keep it." She reached into her belt and tossed a second object across the floor—it skidded to a stop at Echo's feet.
A disc.
An ancient key.
"Take it."
Echo didn't move. "What's the catch?"
"I give you the shard, the key, and safe passage out. In exchange—" she looked at Kael, "—you leave him with me."
The silence between them felt like it could split mountains.
Kael looked at Echo.
"I'll go. She won't hurt me."
"You don't know that."
"I do. Because she needs something. Something only I can give her."
Echo's voice cracked. "What if she needs you dead?"
Kael smiled faintly. "Then she would've done it already."
Araya folded her arms. "Tick tock, Vale. The desert doesn't like indecision."
Echo stared at the shard.
Then at Kael.
And made her choice.
The exchange was wordless.
Kael stepped forward. Took Araya's offered hand. The shard passed into Echo's.
It burned.
More than the last.
As if it didn't want to be held.
As if it remembered something.
Kael turned back one last time.
"I'll find you."
Echo nodded, unable to speak.
Then he was gone.
Hours later, Echo sat by a desert fire, the shard resting in a containment orb.
Alone.
The flame pulsed.
Faster. Hotter.
Then it whispered.
Not in words.
But memories.
Flashes of Kael. Araya. Riven.
And a fourth figure.
Hooded.
Watching from the edge of flame.
The Void Flame.
Waiting.
Far below the desert, in a private chamber, Araya turned to Kael.
"You left me," she said.
"You were already gone."
"Now you're going to help me burn them all down."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Who?"
Araya's eyes gleamed.
"The ones who made us."