🕯️ The Burnt Horizon
The sky bled amber as morning tried to rise over the ruins of the Black Citadel. Columns once majestic were now reduced to jagged spears of ash. The wind whistled through the bones of a kingdom long dead.
Aric sat on the broken steps, staring at his reflection in a pool of black water. The sword rested across his lap, no longer pulsating, but its runes faintly glowed—alive, dormant… waiting.
"You're quiet," Eila said gently, approaching from behind. Her voice held a new edge—fear disguised as calm.
"I heard them," Aric muttered. "All the voices. Every soul that blade ever took. They screamed when I chose it."
Riven stood behind them, arms crossed, his eyes never leaving Aric. "You made a choice to save us. But you didn't come back alone, did you?"
Aric looked at him.
There was a flicker—just a flicker—in his eyes. Like something else had blinked with him.
---
🕯️ The Poison in the Wind
Later that day, they journeyed west toward the River Myrien, where the Order's remnants had taken refuge. But the air had changed.
Birds no longer sang. Trees bent away from them. And once-familiar trails warped behind their steps, vanishing like memories.
"This isn't just the citadel's corruption," Eila whispered. "It's following him."
Riven nodded. "Or awakening because of him."
They camped near a dead grove, the fire sputtering as if resisting its own flame. Eila studied Aric as he dozed restlessly, his body twitching, sweat beading across his forehead.
Suddenly—his hand reached for the sword in his sleep.
"Don't," she said sharply, placing a firm hand over his.
Aric's eyes snapped open—black for a split second—then returned to normal.
"I didn't mean to…"
"I know," Eila said. But her hand trembled long after she pulled it away.
---
🕯️ The Betrayer's Warning
That night, as the others slept, Aric walked alone into the woods.
"You shouldn't be here," came a voice from the shadows.
A cloaked figure stepped out—half-face burned, wearing the broken sigil of the Silver Wardens.
It was Kael. The one who had betrayed their rebellion two years ago.
"You're dead," Aric whispered.
"No. Just forgotten. Like all your enemies will be… once you become what that blade wants you to be."
"I'm not becoming anything."
Kael smirked. "That's the lie every hero tells before they fall."
He stepped closer.
"Ask yourself this: why do the voices inside that sword sound more familiar each day?"
Kael vanished.
Aric didn't sleep again.
---
🕯️ The Shattered Sanctuary
The next day, they reached the outskirts of the Sanctuary. The refugee camp—once bustling with life—was quiet.
Too quiet.
Riven drew his blade. "Where are the guards?"
Then they saw them.
Bodies. Piled at the gate. Torn apart by claw, not sword.
Eila rushed ahead. "No magic was used. This is… something primal."
Inside the Sanctuary, survivors huddled, terrified. One elder stepped forward.
"You brought him here?" she shrieked, pointing at Aric.
"He's the cause! The light from that cursed Citadel—creatures came with it!"
Aric stepped back. "I… didn't mean to—"
"They came from the sky. Shadows with wings. They screamed in languages no man speaks. They smelled you, Aric."
Eila stepped in front of him.
"That's enough. We've all lost someone. But blame will only make us weaker."
But in the eyes of the people… the seeds of doubt had already taken root.
---
🕯️ The Price Revealed
That night, Aric sat at the Sanctuary's old chapel.
He stared at the blade, speaking aloud.
"I chose this to protect them. So why do they fear me?"
The blade shimmered—and for the first time—spoke.
> "Because you are no longer just their savior."
> "You are their reckoning."
Aric stood, heart racing. "Who are you?"
> "I am the first. I am the last. I am the voice of the dying kings."
> "And I will be heard."
A pulse of energy surged from the blade, shaking the chapel.
Eila burst in.
"What's going on?!"
Aric turned—eyes glowing faintly again.
"I don't know," he said. "But I'm not sure this is a blessing anymore."
She stepped forward, voice low.
"It never was."
---
🕯️ Secrets Between Shadows
In a quiet moment, Eila confessed something she'd hidden.
"When I touched your hand that night… I saw visions."
Aric stared. "What did you see?"
"Mountains burning. A sea turned black. You—standing above a throne of bones. But… your eyes weren't yours. And you were alone."
"I'd never hurt—"
"I know," she interrupted, tears brimming. "But something is changing. And I don't know if love is enough to stop it."
Silence stretched between them.
Aric finally said, "Then maybe we need something stronger than love."
Eila's heart broke a little with that.
---
🕯️ The First Fall
Days passed. Tensions grew.
That's when the first creature attacked the Sanctuary directly.
It was unlike anything they'd seen—twelve feet tall, skin like liquid obsidian, screaming without lungs. It tore through the northern wall before anyone could react.
Aric stepped forward—blade in hand—while the others scattered.
The blade screamed.
And Aric did too.
His strike was not just fast—it was divine.
The creature shattered into dust, disintegrating under his blow.
Everyone stared in awe.
But from his eyes… blood poured.
---
🕯️ The Choice of Power
Riven approached that night.
"You saved them. Again."
Aric nodded weakly. "And lost more of myself doing it."
Riven placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Then stop."
"I can't," Aric replied. "Not until this is over. Not until I know what this sword really wants."
---
🕯️ Epilogue: The Black Flame Rises
Far to the south, in the desolate ruins of Draleth, a shadow moved.
A being cloaked in black fire stepped out of a long-dead temple.
He smiled.
"So… the boy has chosen."
He raised a skeletal hand.
From the ashes, a thousand eyes opened.
"Let the war of gods begin."