The road out of Velmora twisted like a scar carved into the earth.
Once paved in marble, the old royal path was now broken by time — stones shattered, vines creeping through every crack. In the distance, jagged mountain peaks loomed like broken teeth, and the morning sky hung pale and gray above the horizon.
Riven walked in silence, his cloak stirring in the cold wind.
Behind him, Kael followed — limping, silent, head bowed.
They had been walking since before dawn. Riven hadn't said a word since they left the ruins. He hadn't needed to.
The questions had been waiting for the right moment.
When they reached the edge of a forest clearing, Riven stopped.
"We talk now," he said, voice calm. "Start with the Order."
Kael hesitated. His eyes flicked up, then down again. "The Eclipse Order doesn't have a face. That's what they teach us first. No gods. No masters. Only the cycle."
"What cycle?"
Kael shifted, uncomfortable. "The world turns by fire and shadow. Creation and erasure. That's the belief. Every few centuries, the world becomes… unbalanced. The Order exists to return balance."
"By killing?"
"By cleansing." Kael swallowed hard. "They believe certain bloodlines—yours included—hoard too much of the world's power. If mana gathers in one line for too long… it disrupts the balance. Corrupts fate itself."
> "Typical cult logic," Veyron muttered. "Worship balance, cause chaos. How poetic."
Riven didn't smile. "How many like me have they killed?"
"I don't know," Kael said quietly. "But there are whispers. That there were once nine. Nine bloodlines across the continent with ancient power. Royal, divine, or forbidden. You're the last one left."
Riven's jaw tensed.
> "Nine," Veyron mused. "Now that's a number I haven't heard in a while."
"Do they know I survived?" Riven asked aloud.
Kael hesitated.
"Yes," he said. "But not all of them believed it. The High Eclipse said your soul had been shattered. That you were no longer a threat. Just… an echo."
"Was he wrong?"
Kael looked up — and saw Riven's eyes glow faintly with residual fire.
"Yes," he whispered.
---
By midday, they reached an abandoned outpost — a watchtower half-swallowed by the forest. Vines curled around broken stone, and shattered helmets rusted in the grass. Riven moved cautiously, blade in hand, but the area was empty.
Inside, Kael rested near the wall while Riven studied the book again.
Still sealed.
Still waiting.
"What do you know about this?" Riven asked, showing him the cover.
Kael's eyes widened. "That symbol… it's forbidden."
"Explain."
Kael sat up, fear creeping into his voice. "That crown split by flame — it belonged to Velmora's royal archives. Only the high bloodline had access. It was said the archives contained world-end knowledge. Forbidden spells. Lost history. Techniques that were never meant to be passed on."
"And the Order feared them?"
"They feared what they couldn't control. That book… it's not just history. It's a map. A key."
> "He's not wrong," Veyron said darkly. "That book unlocks more than your memory."
Riven stood. "Tell me where the Order is strongest now."
Kael looked down. "They move like shadows. But the last known gathering was in a place called Duskridge — far south, past the Brimwall Mountains."
"Why there?"
Kael hesitated. "There's something buried beneath it. A seal, older than Velmora. Something the Order has been trying to break for years."
> "Aether Gate," Veyron whispered, voice colder than before. "Impossible… they're trying to reach it?"
"Aether Gate?" Riven asked aloud.
Veyron didn't respond immediately.
Then:
> "If that gate opens, the world doesn't burn… it dissolves. Time, spirit, matter — undone."
Riven looked down at his hand — the same hand that had lit the courtyard in white flame.
He didn't know what frightened him more — what the cult wanted, or what he himself might become.
---
Night fell.
The forest grew darker, quieter. The fire crackled low inside the watchtower ruins, casting flickering light across the mossy stone.
Kael slept uneasily. Riven stayed awake, eyes fixed on the stars overhead.
> "You should sleep," Veyron murmured.
"I'm not tired."
> "That's a lie. You're just afraid of what you'll dream."
Riven didn't deny it.
He reached into his satchel and pulled out the book again. He placed it on the ground beside the fire, staring at the emblem.
"Why did they call me Ashborn?" he asked.
> "Because your bloodline once commanded the sacred flame — pure elemental magic, older than the Circle of Elements. But after Velmora fell, your blood was no longer sacred. It was… scorched."
"Cursed?"
> "Worse. You carry both divine fire and something else in your blood now. Something sealed. That's why they fear you."
Riven's breath caught.
"What is it?"
> "I don't know," Veyron said, almost softly. "But I felt it the night your father died. It reached out from the fire… and touched you."
The fire flickered lower.
The stars blinked cold and silent above the trees.
And Riven, Ashborn heir of Velmora, closed his eyes — knowing that the next time he opened them, he might remember something he could never forget.
---