The chamber of the Ordo was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the Nameless Flame. Rynze Myal stood at its center, his storm-grey eyes fixed on Srakar Ilmen.
"You survived the trial," Srakar said, his golden eyes gleaming. "But survival is not enough. The flame demands more."
Rynze clenched his fists. "What more does it want?"
Srakar stepped closer, his voice low and resonant. "It wants you to choose. Power or purpose. Control or chaos. The flame is a mirror—it reflects what lies within."
Before Rynze could respond, the ground beneath them trembled. The sealed gate deep beneath Elvain had stirred once more.
Seris Avielle raced through the streets of Elvain, her frozen-sky eyes scanning the chaos around her. The fiery glow in the sky had grown brighter, and the tremors more violent.
"Rynze," she whispered to herself, her heart pounding. "Where are you?"
As she turned a corner, she saw a group of shadowed figures emerging from the ground. Their forms flickered like broken holograms, and their movements were unnervingly jerky.
Seris didn't hesitate. She grabbed a nearby metal rod and charged at them, her determination outweighing her fear.
In the chamber, Rynze felt the resonance within him grow stronger. The Nameless Flame pulsed, its light casting eerie shadows on the walls.
"Rynze Myal," the ancient voice echoed. "The gate is open. The flame calls to you. Will you answer?"
Rynze closed his eyes, his mind racing. He saw visions of the great battle, the figure amidst the chaos, and the gate beneath Elvain. He saw Seris, her frozen-sky eyes filled with determination.
"I'll answer," he said, his voice steady. "But not for power. For them. For the people I care about."
The flame flared, and the chamber dissolved into light. Rynze found himself standing before the sealed gate, its fiery glow illuminating the darkness.
Seris fought valiantly, but the shadowed figures were relentless. Just as one of them lunged at her, a burst of light erupted, blinding and silent.
When the light faded, she saw Rynze standing before her, the Nameless Flame burning in his hand.
"Rynze," she said, her voice trembling. "You came."
He nodded, his storm-grey eyes meeting hers. "I promised I would."
Deep beneath Elvain, the sealed gate shuddered violently. The shadowed figures surrounding it exchanged uneasy glances.
"The vessel has answered the call," one of them said. "The Nameless Flame grows stronger."
Srakar Ilmen stood at the edge of the chamber, his golden eyes fixed on the gate. "The question is, will he control the flame—or will it control him?"