The next morning, Aero woke to silence.
Not the kind that came with peace.
The kind that waited.
Kaeli had taken the captured Bloodcaster to interrogation chambers carved deep below the Verdenthorn. Mica was training with one of the resistance scouts—learning to shape wind as both shield and spear.
Aero had been told to rest.
But the land… wasn't letting him.
Everywhere he went, the roots trembled underfoot. Moss leaned toward him. Flowers refused to close, blooming like they were watching.
It was like the entire wasteland was whispering his name.
He followed the pull past the training grounds, through a passageway he'd never noticed before. The tunnel curved downward, its walls smoother than the others—ancient, untouched by hand.
He moved on instinct now.
Deeper.Colder.Older.
Until he reached a sealed stone arch.
It had no door.
Just a single handprint etched into the stone.
Aero pressed his palm to it.
The world shifted.
The stone opened.
It didn't slide. It dissolved, like ash in the wind, revealing a chamber lit by pale green light.
And in the center…A coffin.
Or what he thought was a coffin.
It was made of darkwood and bone, overgrown with roots. From it rose a single vine… one that pulsed with life force—not faint, but strong. Ancient. Powerful.
As Aero stepped forward, the vine pulsed once—
And he heard the voice.
"At last… my heir has come."
He froze.
"Who… are you?"
"You wear my blood. You carry my ruin."
The vine twisted around his wrist—not hurting, not binding, just connecting.
"You are the last flame of House Valaryn. The exiled fire. The ash that refused to scatter."
Aero's heart pounded.
Valaryn. His true family name. The one they tried to burn from history.
"You're… one of them."
"I was the First."
Suddenly, Aero saw it.
Not in front of him—but within.
A vision. A memory not his own.
A man—tall, black-haired, eyes burning with molten gold—walking through fields of fire, hand outstretched as the world bent to his will.
He didn't burn the world.
He fed it.
With life.
"They feared what I became. So they split the line. One branch into flame. One into blood. And one… into stone."
"But you… you are the reunion. The heir to the roots and the fire both."
Aero stumbled back, gasping.
The connection broke.
He fell to his knees, vision spinning.
And he knew, somehow, what the voice had meant.
His family had once controlled both fire and life force. But the Empire had split the bloodline generations ago—turning them into tools. Turning them into monsters.
But something had gone wrong.
One spark remained. One thread of both.
Him.
Aero Valaryn.
Footsteps echoed from behind.
Kaeli entered, tense. "You weren't supposed to find this place."
Aero looked at her, eyes burning with understanding. "You knew?"
She nodded. "We protect the grave of the First Valaryn. The one who rebelled against the Empire and created this refuge. His roots still live. And now…"
Her eyes locked on his.
"They've chosen you."
Above, the alarm bells rang again.
Not the sharp cry of an enemy attack.
A different tone.
A warning.
Kaeli stiffened. "Something's entered the wasteland. A ripple."
Aero stood, voice hoarse but steady. "A scout?"
Kaeli shook her head.
"No. Something older."
Aero turned to the roots.
They trembled.
"It begins again," whispered the voice in his veins.
Outside, Mica rushed to meet them, face pale.
"It came from the north," she said. "Not Empire. Not Bandits."
Kaeli narrowed her eyes. "Then what?"
Mica pointed to the sky.
Something was descending.
Massive. Silent. Cloaked in ash and flame.
Aero stepped outside the chamber and looked toward the horizon.
And there—floating above the shattered cliffs—was a fortress made of obsidian and bone, suspended by chains and flames.
A castle.
A memory from the old wars.
"Ashwalkers," Kaeli said, breath trembling.
Aero's pulse stopped.
He remembered the old stories. Half-truths told to children who misbehaved. The ones who walked through fire and never died. The cursed mages who outlived kingdoms and turned to dust—but never fell.
The Empire hadn't destroyed them.
They'd buried them.
And now, they were back.