"Don't speak too loudly," Veyna warned. "Even echoes can summon things in this place."
Ash crunched beneath their boots as the three descended into the Scar. Black glass veins ran beneath the surface like dormant fire, still glowing faintly after centuries. The spiral columns towered above them,twisted ribs of basalt fused with a metal not even Janis could name.
Azrael swallowed hard. The air was thick, not just with smoke but memory. Heavy, sorrowful memory.
"This is where it ended," Veyna said. "And where it began."
"Where what began?" Janis asked, her voice low.
"The Fall. The First Rebellion. And the silence that followed."
Azrael slowed. "Tell me about him."
Veyna's eyes gleamed faintly under her hood. "The god who died here was called Deyvros, The Silent Flame. He did not speak with a mouth, but through stillness. He governed endings. Closure. Final words."
Janis frowned. "He died here?"
"By his own kin's hand," Veyna said. "He chose not to strike back. And so his silence became permanent."
They stopped at the spiral's base. There, carved into the stone, was a circular basin of charred obsidian filled with soot and fine, glittering dust. Azrael knelt by it.
"What is this?" he asked.
Veyna touched the rim. "His ashes. Or what remains of them."
The wind picked up suddenly, howling between the spires.
Janis turned sharply. "We're not alone."
They all felt it, a presence. Heavy. Watching. The air trembled with unseen breath. It was almost like someone was there but could not be seen.
---
Far away, in the cold halls of Danigrasse, the council's private chamber was sealed. Only seven elders remained; those part of the inner circle. Mura sat at the apex, hands folded.
Varros entered slowly.
"You summoned me," he said.
Mura gestured. "Sit."
He remained standing.
Tenik leaned forward. "You've grown fond of the boy."
"He is not a boy anymore," Varros replied.
"Perhaps," Mura said. "But he is something else. Something dangerous."
"You fear him."
"We fear what he carries," Mura corrected. "And what he could awaken."
Varros' eyes narrowed. "You sent him. You let him approach the relic."
"Because we needed to see if it would respond," Tenik said. "And it did."
Mura rose slowly. "Do you know why history keeps forgetting the God of Silence?"
Varros said nothing.
"Because it was forbidden to remember," she whispered. "The one who kills silence invites war."
Tenik stood. "If Azrael is touched by the same essence; if he is its reincarnate, or something worse, then we cannot allow him to live unchecked."
Varros stepped forward. "You will not harm him."
Mura's eyes were ice. "We may not have a choice."
---
Back in the Scar, Azrael's fingers brushed the ash in the basin. It was warm.
Then—light.
A pulse of violet shimmered beneath the soot. The column behind them vibrated.
Janis cursed, backing away.
Veyna grabbed Azrael's wrist. "Let go!"
But he couldn't. The light had threaded into his palm, climbing his skin like molten vines. Visions flickered behind his eye; battles fought without sound, gods falling from the sky, and a fire that burned in complete silence.
He gasped, stumbling back, coughing.
The basin was still. The light gone.
Janis rushed to him. "What did you see?"
He shook his head, breathless. "I don't know. But I think… I think something saw me back."
---
In the chamber, Mura's candle flickered violently.
She stood, alarmed.
"The basin was touched," she whispered.
Tenik looked to Varros. "It's begun."
Varros clenched his jaw. "Then you should start praying."
---
Night fell over the Scar like a curtain of smoke.
Azrael stood alone near the edge of the basin.
"What if I'm not meant to stop this?" he asked.
Veyna placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then you'll bear witness. And that matters more than you know."
Janis threw a pebble into the ash.
"Next time we follow smoke," she said, "let's not walk into dead gods."
They laughed, but the wind did not.
And high above, unseen by all, a figure stood among the spires. Cloaked. Silent. Observing them.
It turned slowly and whispered a single word:
"Found."