Ash's boots crunched against the forest floor, each step pushing deeper into the Vale of Cinders. The smell of ash lingered in the air, clinging to his clothes like regret. Wind stirred the dying leaves overhead. Every gust carried whispers from the trees, murmurs of past battles, broken oaths, and long-forgotten magic.
The forest had once been part of the Emberfall Kingdom, lush and golden. Now, it was a graveyard of embers, charred trunks and dry moss stretching for miles. The Voidflame Shard pulsed faintly beneath Ash's cloak, warm against his chest.
His fingers brushed it through the fabric.
"Still burning," he muttered.
A flicker of blue fire traced up his arm, dancing between his knuckles. The Voidflame responded not to words, but will. But Ash didn't fully understand it yet. His mother might've known. His father? Definitely. But they were dead.
He moved on.
Each footstep was measured, quiet. He'd grown up stealing from merchant wagons and drunk noblemen in the western slums of Emberfall—stealth was second nature. But out here, it wasn't guards he had to fear.
It was the Markhunters.
The Order of Ash. Or so they called themselves now.
Ash stopped suddenly and crouched low. Voices. Up ahead.
He crept forward, weaving between crumbling stone arches half-swallowed by roots. The Vale had once held shrines to the Flameborn gods. Now it was a place where scavengers fought for scraps.
Peering over a collapsed altar, he spotted them.
Three figures. All armed. Two men and a woman. Their black cloaks bore the insignia of the Markhunters—a burning sword clutched by a skeletal hand.
Ash's jaw tightened.
"Spread out," one of the men barked. "The last shard reading came from here. The flame doesn't lie."
The woman knelt, tapping a small obsidian device against the ground. A faint glow pulsed from it.
"Residual energy," she said. "Voidflame. Recent."
Ash backed away slowly. He couldn't take on three. Not yet.
[Voidflame System Activated...]
[Danger Proximity: Moderate]
[New System Trait Unlocked: Ember Sense]
A faint shimmer overtook his vision. For a brief second, he saw it—the faint trails of heat and magic left in the air. Like footprints in firelight.
Ash inhaled.
So that was how they tracked him. Flame signatures.
The shard must've triggered the System to defend him. Or maybe it just wanted to survive. He wasn't sure yet if it had a mind of its own.
Carefully, Ash slipped around the outer edge of the ruin, hugging the mossy stones.
One wrong move, and they'd find him. Then he'd either be bound in iron runes... or burned alive.
---
Night fell quickly in the Vale.
Ash made camp beneath the roots of a toppled tree, deep within a gully carved by time and rain. He had no fire. Couldn't risk the light. Instead, he ate dried roots and drank rainwater caught in his canteen.
He opened the journal he'd stolen from the cultist in Chapter 2.
The pages were worn, ink smudged, but the diagrams were clear—runes, Voidflame branches, maps of shard locations. One entry caught his eye.
"The true heir of flame is not born but chosen—marked by death, forged by betrayal."
Ash stared at the words.
It could've meant anyone. But in his gut, he knew.
He remembered the night his mother died. The fire. The screaming. His father's last words, whispered and broken: "They fear the flame inside you..."
He clenched his fist.
If the Voidflame chose him, then he'd use it. Not for power. For vengeance.
---
By morning, he was already moving. The trail led east, where the old Emberwatch Tower stood.
It was said to be cursed. Few returned from it. But the journal listed it as the next known shard location.
Ash reached the outer wall by midday. Cracked stone. Black ivy crawling up its sides like veins. A single bell tower pierced the sky, half-collapsed.
The door groaned as he pushed it open.
Inside, rot clung to the air. Bird bones. Torn flags. Ash crept slowly, every step echoing.
A voice broke the silence.
"You shouldn't be here."
He froze.
A boy, no older than twelve, stood in the shadows. Pale hair, bright amber eyes.
"Who are you?" Ash asked.
"Call me Finch," the boy replied. "You're marked. I can smell it."
Ash stepped back. "You with the cult?"
"No. Not with them. Not anymore."
Finch held up his hand. The back of it bore a faded rune—burned in, half-erased.
"They tried to bind me to the Ember Thrall. I ran. This tower hides things they fear."
Ash didn't trust easily. But the boy's eyes held a kind of desperation that couldn't be faked.
Finch led him to the upper chamber.
There, floating above a broken pedestal, hovered a shard. Not like the one Ash had found before. This one was cracked, oozing dark flame.
[Voidflame System Warning: Corrupted Shard Detected]
[Risk of Soul Fracture: High]
Ash approached it slowly.
The air grew colder.
"Only those who bear the Mark of Ash may touch it and live."
Finch's voice came quiet, almost reverent.
Ash reached out. The shard pulsed once. Then twice. Then exploded in light.
Pain lanced through his arm, burning up his veins.
His scream echoed across the forest.
---
[Voidflame System: Shard Assimilation Complete]
[New Ability Unlocked: Cinder Step — Blink forward in a burst of flame. Range: 5 meters. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
[Warning: Soul integrity reduced by 2%.]
Ash collapsed to his knees, panting.
Finch watched him silently. Then tossed him a flask. Ash drank. It tasted like rust and herbs.
"You'll need more than tricks to survive what comes next," Finch said.
Ash wiped his mouth. "Why help me?"
Finch looked away. "Because if you die, the flame dies with you. And then we're all damned."
---
They left the tower that night. The stars were hidden behind clouds. Ash felt something shift inside him—not just the power, but purpose.
He wasn't just running anymore.
He was hunting.
For answers. For vengeance. For the truth of what had been taken from him.
And if the Voidflame burned his soul away in the process...
So be it.
---
[Voidflame System Update: Alignment Shift Detected]
[Path of the Cursed Heir Initiated]
[New Perk: Flamebound Oath — Damage increases when fighting Markhunters.]
Ash smiled bitterly.
Let them come.