Episode 15
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Ashrial.
The name echoed in Kael's mind long after Lira had unrolled the ancient map. It was more than just a lost city—it was a key. A symbol. Perhaps even the truth behind the tangled lies of the Flameborn.
They camped in the underground ruin, firelight flickering against the forgotten stone. The silence of the buried world seemed to press inward, as though the walls themselves held breath.
Taron traced his fingers over the map. "This region… it lies beyond the Hollow Expanse."
"That's a dead zone," Lira said. "No ley lines. No fire magic works there. No flamecasters go beyond its edge."
"Maybe that's why Ashrial still exists," Kael said. "Hidden in silence."
Taron frowned. "There's no safe route. Not unless we use the Skyrails—and those are controlled by the Flameborn High Circle."
"We'll find another way," Kael said, rolling up the map. "One that doesn't walk through the lion's den."
Lira smirked. "Good. Because if we go to the High Circle now, we're going to be declared traitors."
Kael stood, facing a new path carved by fate—and flame.
"We've already crossed that line."
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Meanwhile… at Ember Bastion
In the towers of the High Circle, tension boiled beneath polished marble and perfumed halls.
Elder Vara paced the chamber floor. She was dressed in her ceremonial crimson robe, hair coiled high, the Ember Sigil glowing at her throat. The walls around her pulsed with firelight—an enchantment that responded to her heartbeat.
"The Vault has fallen," she hissed.
"And Kael Flameborn was seen leaving its ashes," murmured her second, Master Relth.
"Then he knows," Vara said. "Or he suspects."
Relth nodded. "The Shadow Circle has dispatched the Whisper Sisters. They'll track him."
Vara turned toward the window. Smoke coiled in the sky. Somewhere, a signal fire burned where none should.
She narrowed her eyes. "We cannot allow him to reach Ashrial. Not before we cleanse the archives."
Relth bowed. "It will be done. And the girl?"
"Lira?" Vara smiled faintly. "She'll return to us. One way or another."
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Journey into the Hollow Expanse
Kael, Lira, and Taron climbed out of the buried ruin and into the charred forest beyond the Vault. The sky above was strange—tinged gray and green, like the world held its breath.
By nightfall, they had reached the edge of the Hollow Expanse.
A great, cracked land stretched before them, devoid of trees or life. Only ash, dust, and silence.
Kael felt it instantly.
The absence of flame.
"No ley lines here," Taron whispered. "Nothing to draw from. No fire magic."
Kael tried to summon a spark—his hand flickered, but the flame choked and died.
Lira knelt, touching the dirt. "Something happened here… centuries ago. Something that burned so hot it destroyed magic itself."
Kael turned toward her. "Then we walk. No magic. No flame. Just steel, will, and purpose."
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The Whisper Sisters
Far behind them, hidden among the ruins of a shattered temple, two figures stood cloaked in shadows.
The Whisper Sisters—identical twins wrapped in black silk, faces veiled, eyes glowing violet.
"They have entered the Expanse," one said.
"Then we follow," the other whispered.
Together, they vanished into smoke, silent as ghosts.
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A Temple of Bones
Days passed.
The trio trekked deeper into the Hollow Expanse. Dust clung to their clothes, and their food ran low.
On the fourth night, they found a ruin—a sunken structure half-buried in ash.
Carved symbols hinted at old Flameborn temples… but the bones told another story.
Dozens of skeletons, all dressed in priestly robes, surrounded a shattered altar.
"This was a sacrifice," Taron said grimly.
"No," Lira corrected, kneeling beside one of the corpses. "They were trapped here. Burned alive. But not by normal flame."
Kael found the altar's centerpiece—a scorched stone, pulsing faintly.
It responded to his touch.
A vision poured into his mind:
> A woman, cloaked in white fire, standing before the altar. Her voice thundered:
"The truth was forged in fire. But the lie was born in silence. Let ash remember what flame must forget."
He pulled back, gasping.
"What did you see?" Lira asked.
Kael stared at the altar.
"A prophecy. And a warning."
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A Warning from the Ash
Suddenly, the air shifted.
A whisper.
Kael drew his sword.
From the darkness emerged a child—eyes hollow, skin gray. A spirit?
"Do not go to Ashrial," it whispered. "Flameborn lie. They always lie."
Kael approached slowly. "Who are you?"
The child vanished.
And the temple began to collapse.
"Run!" Lira shouted.
They sprinted, dodging falling stone and flares of dark heat. The temple crumbled behind them, as though silencing its own secrets.
They barely made it out alive.
Breathing hard, Kael looked back at the ruin.
"Ashrial's guarded by more than distance," he said.
"It's guarded by memory."
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Taron's Confession
That night, beside a cold fire, Taron finally spoke what had weighed on him.
"I knew of Ashrial," he said. "I was shown glimpses as a boy. The High Circle calls it the Seed of Rebellion."
Lira narrowed her eyes. "So why are you helping us?"
Taron looked up, ashamed.
"Because I watched them burn a village for asking about it. And I stayed silent. I can't do that anymore."
Kael said nothing for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"Then help us burn the lie to the ground."
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