The night was endless.
Smoke still lingered in the air long after the fall of Pyraeth. The sky was not black but a dull crimson, smeared with ash and dim light that refused to fade. Jayden walked at the front of the group, the Heart of Ember glowing faintly against his chest beneath his torn cloak.
Each breath tasted of iron and soot. Every sound behind him — the crunch of boots, the quiet groans of the wounded — reminded him of what they had lost.
Lyra followed closely, her arm bandaged, her expression calm but hollow. Her hair was still streaked with ash. The others — soldiers, healers, a few refugees — trailed in silence, their faces marked with exhaustion and disbelief. The Fire Dominion had fallen. Their great city was gone.
They traveled across a desolate plain where rivers of cooled magma twisted like veins of glass. The ground cracked under their steps. Every few miles, a gust of heat rose from below, breathing faint reminders of the inferno that had consumed their home.
Jayden stopped when the wind changed. He could feel it — the pulse of the world beneath the surface, faint and broken. His connection to Aetherion had grown stronger since the fall, as though the death of the city had awakened something ancient inside him.
Lyra noticed. "You feel it again, don't you?"
He nodded. "The fire still breathes. But it's weak."
"It will die if we don't move fast," she said, tightening her grip on her sword. "Caleth won't stop at Pyraeth. The Shadowflame spreads through the cracks. If he reaches the other dominions first—"
Jayden finished her thought. "There won't be anything left to save."
They reached a ridge that overlooked the blackened valley. Far in the distance, where Pyraeth once floated above the magma sea, only a crater remained. The molten rivers had gone dark, their light swallowed by shadow. Jayden clenched his fist, remembering his mother's last words. "Fire lives not to destroy, but to begin again."
He whispered them now under his breath, as if saying them aloud could keep her spirit near.
Lyra placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you could."
Jayden's voice broke softly. "It wasn't enough."
For a while, they just stood there — watching the smoke drift toward the horizon, carrying the ashes of a world that had burned too brightly.
When dawn finally came, the light was pale and strange. The sun looked dim, as though part of it had been swallowed by the darkness spreading across Aetherion. The survivors made camp among the rocks. Lyra ordered scouts to search for clean water while she patched wounds and checked supplies. Jayden sat apart, staring at the Heart of Ember. The crystal pulsed gently in his hand, like a heartbeat.
He could feel warmth from it, not from fire, but from something deeper — a whisper of his mother's soul, perhaps.
Then the whisper changed. The flame flickered inside the crystal, showing faint reflections of a mountain covered in storm clouds. A voice echoed faintly within his thoughts. "Seek the wind. Where fire ends, air begins."
He stood abruptly. "The Wind Dominion."
Lyra looked up. "What?"
"The Heart showed me a mountain — high above the storm. It wants us to go there."
"You think that's where the next heir is?"
"I know it."
She studied him for a moment. "Then we'll go. But we need a way across the Ember Wastes first. No one has crossed them since the First War."
Jayden looked toward the distant horizon, where streaks of silver light flickered among the dark clouds. "Then we'll be the first."
By the second night, half their food had run out. The heat from the ground grew unbearable. One by one, the others began to falter. Lyra pushed them onward, her voice steady, though her strength was fading.
When Jayden noticed her stumble, he caught her arm. "Rest. We'll stop here."
She shook her head. "No. If we stop, they'll lose hope."
"They already have."
She glared at him, but there was no anger — only fear. "If you give up, they'll follow you into despair."
Jayden looked back at the weary group. The youngest among them, a boy barely twelve, carried a broken torch. He was trying to keep it lit, even though there was no fire left to burn.
Jayden knelt before him and touched the torch. A spark leapt from his fingers. The flame came alive again, soft and golden. The boy's eyes widened. "It's real."
Jayden smiled faintly. "It always was."
The group gathered around, taking courage from the small light. For the first time since the fall, the air felt less suffocating.
Later that night, as the others slept, Lyra sat beside him by the torchlight. "You remind me of her," she said quietly.
"My mother?"
"Yes. Seraphine never stopped believing that fire could heal as well as destroy. I think she'd be proud of you."
Jayden stared into the flames. "She died because of me."
"She died for you. That's different."
He didn't answer, but he held the Heart of Ember tighter.
By the third day, they reached the edge of the Ember Wastes. It was a vast stretch of cracked land covered in glass-like sand that shimmered under the dim sun. The heat was unbearable. No birds flew overhead. No sound but the low hum of the earth's dying core.
Lyra squinted at the horizon. "No one survives out there."
Jayden took a deep breath. "We will."
He closed his eyes and let the Heart of Ember float above his palm. The relic pulsed once, twice, and a path of glowing stone formed ahead of them — the last breath of the Fire Dominion lending them passage.
The group hesitated, but Jayden stepped forward. The ground burned faintly under his feet, yet it did not hurt him.
Each step carried weight. Each heartbeat echoed with memories of Eryndor Vale — the golden fields, the quiet rivers, the life he had lost. But as he walked through the desolation, he understood that he was not walking away from that past. He was carrying it with him.
When they finally reached the other side, night had fallen again. The air was cooler. The ground turned to silver stone. A soft wind began to rise, carrying faint whispers that sounded almost like voices.
Lyra looked around warily. "We crossed it."
Jayden nodded, his gaze fixed on the mountains ahead. Their peaks glowed faintly with lightning. "No. We entered something new."
He held up the Heart of Ember. The flame within it shifted from red to gold, and the wind around them stirred.
"The air welcomes us," he murmured. "It knows we're coming."
Lyra gave a faint smile. "Then let's hope the people do too."
They walked onward into the stormlit peaks, leaving behind the ashes of one world and stepping into the breath of another.