The sky over the Ember Wastes turned black.
Kael stood at the ridge, two soul-shards now fused within him, the Codex heavier on his back than ever before. The First Flame burned low at his side—its fire not tired, but waiting.
Beside him, Elira studied the horizon.
"There's movement. Three caravans—standard Temple configuration."
Kael nodded.
"They're closing the net."
"They must know you took the second shard."
Kael glanced down at his hands—faint glyphs still glimmered beneath the skin.
"Then let them come. I'm not afraid."
But Elira didn't answer.
Instead, she pointed toward a figure approaching alone—riding a black steed made of emberglass and bone. A man wrapped in scavenger's armor, face hidden behind a rusted steel mask.
Kael squinted.
And his stomach twisted.
"I know him."
His name was Dain.
Three years ago, Kael had pulled Dain from a battlefield littered with corpses—half-dead, delirious, and covered in Temple chains. He had been a prisoner of war, tortured for his refusal to kneel.
Kael had carried him through snow and shadow. They had bled together. Laughed, even. He had called Dain brother.
Now, the man rode with the mark of the Temple burned into his neck.
Dain dismounted, removed his mask—and gave Kael a sad smile.
"You've grown, Flameborn."
Kael didn't move.
"And you've changed sides."
Dain shrugged.
"There are no sides in a world that burns. Only those who survive."
Elira's hand went to her blade.
Kael raised his hand—wait.
"Why are you here, Dain?"
"To give you a choice." Dain held out a sealed scroll, etched with divine runes. "The High Temple wants only the shards. Give them up, and they will erase your name quietly. No blood. No war."
Kael stared at him, stunned.
"You believe that?"
Dain smiled. "I want to."
"You're not here to deliver mercy," Elira cut in. "You're here to stall. The Vows are coming, aren't they?"
Dain hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Three minutes. That's all I could buy you."
Kael's voice hardened.
"Then why bother offering peace?"
Dain stepped closer.
And in that moment, Kael felt it—the pull. The twist in his chest. The second shard inside him—responding to Dain.
"You…" Kael narrowed his eyes. "You tried to bond a shard."
Dain didn't deny it.
"I failed. It broke me. But I still hear it. And it hears you."
Kael staggered back, too late.
The Codex flared. The second shard flickered—unstable.
Dain whispered something under his breath—
And Kael screamed.
The pain was like molten iron poured into his soul. The second shard tore itself loose—not physically, but spiritually, yanked toward Dain like a child pulled from its mother.
Kael dropped to his knees. The First Flame fell from his hand, dim.
Elira lunged at Dain, but a barrier of soulfire knocked her aside.
Dain held the stolen shard in his palm—flickering, hissing, not yet loyal.
"You're not the only one who remembers the Flameking," he said quietly.
"And not the only one willing to become him."
Kael's voice was hoarse. "You're being used."
"Maybe," Dain said. "But better a weapon with power than a martyr in ashes."
He mounted his steed.
And vanished into the storm.
Silence fell.
Elira crawled to Kael's side.
"Are you—"
"No," Kael rasped. "I'm not okay."
His body trembled. His skin still glowed with the first shard, but the absence of the second left a hollow in him—like a wound that could never scab over.
The Codex remained closed.
The First Flame flickered weakly.
And Kael felt something he hadn't in a long time.
Doubt.
They found shelter in a ruined watchtower later that night.
Kael sat by the dead fire. Elira watched him in silence.
After a long time, she spoke.
"He didn't kill you. Why?"
Kael didn't answer at first.
Then:
"Because he still believes in something. But not in me."
He opened the Codex.
For a moment, it didn't respond.
Then one line appeared in black flame:
"Not all flames are loyal.
Not all loyalty is fire."
Kael closed the book.
"He'll use the shard to bait me. He wants me to follow."
Elira nodded.
"So we chase him?"
Kael stood slowly, retrieving his sword.
"No."
He looked to the east—where the Temple was gathering its armies.
"We burn everything between him and the next shard. And when he realizes what he stole wasn't enough—he'll come back to finish it."
The hunt had begun.
But this time, Kael wasn't running from the Temple.
He was running through it.