The first thing he felt was silence.
No wind. No sky. No heartbeat. Only the faint hum of something vast and distant, like the breath of a dying god.
Rondan opened his eyes.
He was lying on a plain of white ash that stretched endlessly, glowing faintly beneath an unseen light. The ground pulsed gently with warmth, like the dying echo of a once-great flame. Above him, there was no sun—only drifting embers, floating like stars trapped in slow motion.
He rose slowly, his armor cracked and scorched, his cloak in tatters. When he looked down, the rune on his arm shimmered with new life—its crimson glow replaced by a faint golden light.
The transformation wasn't just within the mark; it was within him.
His senses were sharper, his breath heavier with power that hummed like molten metal beneath his skin.
A soft voice cut through the stillness.
"You've crossed the Veil."
He turned sharply. A woman stood a few paces away, cloaked in ash-gray robes that shimmered like smoke. Her hair flowed like silver fire, and her eyes—golden and ancient—watched him with an expression that was both curious and sorrowful.
"Who are you?" Rondan asked, his hand moving instinctively toward his blade.
She smiled faintly. "A memory. A shadow of the first flamekeeper. I existed before your gods, before your wars. You shouldn't be here yet."
Rondan narrowed his eyes. "Then send me back."
The woman's smile faded. "Back? There is no back. Only forward. The moment you took the flame into yourself, you burned the path that once led home."
Her words struck him like a blade. "Then where am I supposed to go?"
She gestured to the horizon.
There, through the sea of ash, faint towers rose—black spires wrapped in drifting light. A city half-buried in embers.
"To the heart of what remains," she said softly. "The place where the flame first slept. There you'll learn what it truly means to be the Cursed Sovereign."
Rondan's eyes hardened.
"Then that's where I'll go."
The woman nodded, her form beginning to dissolve into glowing dust.
"Be warned… every step you take from now on will wake something that was meant to stay forgotten."
And as her final words faded, the wind returned—carrying whispers of fire and war. Rondan set his eyes on the ashen horizon, his golden rune burning faintly beneath the skin.
He took his first step into the realm between worlds.