Two days.
That was how long Qaritas had managed to enjoy something resembling peace.
Two.
Entire.
Days.
Considering his recent experiences, this was practically a vacation.
Nobody had tried to kill him.
Nobody had attempted to abduct Xheavend.
Nobody had emerged from a wall wearing somebody else's skin.
And, most importantly—
Nobody had informed him that he was destined to become an ingredient in some ancient cosmic ritual.
Qaritas considered all of this remarkable progress.
Naturally—
the universe took offense.
Because on the morning of the third day—
The Book woke up.
And decided to ruin everything.
"Absolutely not."
The Book floated above the dining table.
Its grotesque leather cover twitched.
Dozens of purple eyes blinked across its surface.
Violet gemstones embedded in its spine pulsed like diseased hearts.
And the stitching holding its cover together—
moved.
Qaritas pointed at it.
"No."
The Book opened.
FLAP.
A page turned.
Then another.
Then—
another.
Black ink crawled across the parchment.
Letters formed.
Dissolved.
Reassembled.
Qaritas narrowed his eyes.
"I am ignoring you."
The Book floated closer.
He leaned away.
"I said I'm ignoring you."
It turned another page.
ASHENWATCH.
Qaritas stared.
"...No."
The letters rearranged.
ASHENWATCH.
"Still no."
The Book drifted directly in front of his face.
Qaritas slowly lowered his spoon.
"...You are interrupting breakfast."
A purple eye blinked.
He pointed toward his plate.
"Do you see this?"
The Book remained still.
"Eggs."
Another blink.
"Bread."
The gemstones pulsed.
"An actual breakfast."
The Book turned a page.
DEPART.
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"Wonderful."
He looked toward the ceiling.
"I have been defeated by stationery."
Across the table—
Xheavend laughed.
Not loudly.
But enough.
Qaritas looked at her.
"Don't encourage it."
She smiled.
"Q, it's just doing what Goro told it to do."
"Goro told it to be irritating?"
"Probably not."
"Then it has exceeded expectations."
The Book's pages snapped shut.
THWACK.
Qaritas flinched.
Then glared.
"Violence. Excellent. We're escalating."
Xheavend covered her mouth.
Her shoulders shook.
And Qaritas—
despite himself—
smiled.
Because two days ago, Xheavend had spent hours crying over graves.
Because she had carried the voices of the dead from Solvayne's estate all the way to Vaelkaris.
Because she had stood beside families who would never hear their loved ones speak again.
And now—
she was laughing at him.
He would happily endure a thousand hostile books for that.
Possibly.
Nine hundred.
Depending on the book.
"What's happening?"
Kysena entered the dining chamber carrying a tray of tea.
Her pale-blue hair was arranged in a loose braid.
Silver ornaments shimmered against her moonlit skin.
Her gray eyes moved from Qaritas—
to the floating Book—
to the abandoned breakfast.
She sighed.
"Again?"
Qaritas pointed.
"It started."
The Book opened.
ASHENWATCH.
Kysena studied the page.
Her expression changed.
"Ashenwatch?"
Xheavend stopped laughing.
Qaritas noticed.
Immediately.
Kysena set the tray down.
"That name was in Solvayne's records."
Qaritas nodded.
"Along with Mossmere, Virellune, and Selyr."
"And the entry concerning you and Xheavend."
"Yes."
He looked at the Book.
QARITAS. XHEAVEND. AWAITING COLLECTION.
Those words had remained in his mind for two days.
Not because they frightened him.
Well—
not entirely.
Mostly because he disliked being placed on someone's collection schedule without being consulted.
He considered that exceptionally rude.
Kysena approached the Book.
"Does it say why we need to go?"
The pages turned.
Ink spread across the parchment.
For a moment—
nothing appeared.
Then—
ASHENWATCH.
Below it—
FOUR.
And beneath that—
a black symbol resembling a broken ring.
Qaritas stared.
"Four?"
Xheavend leaned forward.
"The brothers?"
The Book's gemstones pulsed.
A single eye opened near the spine.
Qaritas folded his arms.
"That isn't an answer."
The eye blinked.
"Don't blink at me."
It blinked again.
"Xhea, your book is mocking me."
"It's Goro's book."
"Even worse."
The chamber doors opened.
Ylaris entered.
He wore black and gold traveling clothes beneath a long mantle that shimmered faintly with solar fire.
His reddish-orange hair looked almost molten in the morning light.
His golden skin glowed warmly.
He stopped when he saw the Book.
Then—
"No."
Qaritas pointed at him.
"THANK YOU."
Ylaris looked toward the parchment.
His expression darkened.
"...Ashenwatch."
Qaritas lowered his hand.
"Oh."
Kysena studied him.
"You know it?"
Ylaris didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
he approached the table.
Looked at the symbol.
Then the word.
And slowly—
his expression became something Qaritas had rarely seen.
Concern.
Real concern.
"Ylaris?"
The Sun Ascendant looked toward the window.
"Ashenwatch was once one of Vharos's oldest fire settlements."
Qaritas frowned.
"Once?"
Ylaris nodded.
"Built near the western volcanic plains."
"And?"
A pause.
"It disappeared."
Silence.
Qaritas stared.
"...Disappeared?"
"Years ago."
"How does an entire settlement disappear?"
Ylaris looked at him.
"That is what nobody knows."
The Book's pages turned.
DEPART.
Qaritas stared at it.
Then slowly pushed his plate away.
"...I hate being right."
Vaelkaris was still recovering.
Two days had passed since the survivors returned.
Two days since the first coffins arrived.
Two days since the people of the capital learned what Baron Solvayne had concealed beneath his beautiful estate.
And the city—
had changed.
Not entirely.
Cities rarely changed that quickly.
But something had shifted.
The enormous golden banners bearing Solvayne's family crest had been removed from several public buildings.
His charitable foundation had been suspended.
Officials were investigating the estates and merchants connected to his trafficking records.
And families from all four kingdoms continued arriving.
Some came hoping to find missing loved ones among the survivors.
Others came to identify the dead.
Qaritas had spent much of the previous two days helping Kysena arrange transportation.
Ylaris had worked with the city's authorities to secure the evidence and recover property purchased through Solvayne's operations.
Xheavend had visited families who wanted to speak with her.
Not all.
Some wanted silence.
Some wanted answers.
Some wanted to know whether their loved ones had suffered.
Others—
only wanted to hear their names one more time.
Qaritas had watched Xheavend do something extraordinary.
She hadn't tried to make anyone's grief disappear.
She simply listened.
Sometimes she carried messages.
Sometimes she sat beside them.
And sometimes—
she said nothing at all.
A few survivors had asked her for the protective marks of Genesis.
She had given them willingly.
Others had declined.
She hadn't questioned them.
Qaritas liked that.
Power was one thing.
Knowing when not to use it—
was another.
But now—
Ashenwatch.
He stood beside the enormous windows of their temporary residence.
The city stretched beneath him.
Golden towers.
Black bridges.
Living flames.
And beyond—
the western mountains.
"Q?"
He turned.
Xheavend stood behind him.
Still wearing her masculine disguise.
Her black hair fell around features resembling Zcain's.
One eye red.
One pink.
The Bloodglass Marrow continued concealing her true appearance from Yzer's invasive connection.
Qaritas was grateful.
More grateful than he could explain.
"Ready?"
He sighed.
"No."
She smiled.
"You're coming anyway."
"Apparently."
He looked toward the western horizon.
"How far?"
"Ylaris says we can reach the outer volcanic plains by evening."
Qaritas blinked.
"That close?"
"By Cinderyn."
He looked at her.
Then grinned.
"Ah."
Xheavend narrowed her eyes.
"Q."
"What?"
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
Qaritas placed a hand against his chest.
"I'm offended."
"You're smiling."
"Am I forbidden from smiling?"
"Not like that."
Qaritas looked toward the distant station.
Where the Eight-Flame Royal Express waited.
Its enormous serpent-shaped crown rose above the platforms.
Eight flames shimmered along its obsidian body.
And somewhere within—
a sentient Hearthmind was probably regretting having accepted him as a passenger.
Qaritas smiled wider.
"Oh, we're taking the train."
The Hearthmind recognized him.
Unfortunately—
it remembered him.
The moment Qaritas entered the Sovereign Crown, blue flames flickered along the walls.
Golden symbols formed above the central control dais.
Ylaris studied them.
Then sighed.
Qaritas looked at him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Ylaris."
"Nothing important."
"Tell me."
Ylaris hesitated.
Then—
"It says you're not allowed to touch the controls."
Qaritas stared.
"...What?"
Kysena covered her mouth.
Xheavend turned away.
Her shoulders shook.
Qaritas pointed at the glowing crystal.
"I HAVE NEVER TOUCHED YOUR CONTROLS."
The Hearthmind's flames turned orange.
Ylaris glanced at the symbols.
"It says you considered it."
Qaritas went silent.
Then—
"...That's private."
Xheavend burst into laughter.
Kysena finally gave up pretending.
Even Ylaris smiled.
Qaritas looked toward the ceiling.
"Wonderful."
He sighed.
"I've been judged by a clock and a train."
From his pocket—
the Chronolock spoke.
"Both judgments were warranted."
Qaritas froze.
Slowly—
he reached into his pocket.
The small oval keychain rested against his palm.
Its silver button gleamed.
He stared.
"...Were you listening?"
"Unfortunately."
Ylaris looked away.
Kysena laughed harder.
Xheavend leaned against a pillar.
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"I am surrounded by traitors."
The Cinderyn departed shortly after midday.
Its eight flames ignited along the enormous hull.
Red.
Orange.
Yellow.
Green.
Blue.
White.
Violet.
Pink.
The Octaflame Heart pulsed beneath the Sovereign Crown.
Blue-fire levitation rings rotated beneath the passenger palaces.
And the magnificent train glided above its black crystal rails.
Vaelkaris disappeared behind them.
Golden towers became distant sparks.
The mountains opened into broad volcanic valleys.
Rivers of glowing magma wound through black stone.
Enormous fire-elemental creatures moved across the plains.
Some resembled great horned beasts with bodies of living coal.
Others drifted above the ground as enormous clusters of floating embers.
Farther away—
giant crystalline formations rose from the earth.
They glowed from within.
Red.
Orange.
Gold.
And beneath the evening sky—
the entire landscape looked like a world forged inside a furnace.
Qaritas stood beside the observation window.
"...Okay."
Xheavend approached.
"What?"
He gestured toward the landscape.
"This planet is ridiculous."
She smiled.
"In a good way?"
"Unfortunately."
Ylaris stood nearby.
His expression softened as he looked across the plains.
"These lands are among the oldest inhabited regions of Vharos."
Qaritas glanced at him.
"How old?"
"Older than many of the kingdoms that now claim them."
Qaritas nodded.
"That sounds appropriately ancient."
Ylaris continued.
"The Pyrathi built settlements around the stable volcanic arteries."
"Arteries?"
"Channels through which elemental heat travels beneath the surface."
Qaritas looked toward a river of magma.
"That seems like a terrible place to build a house."
"To you."
"To most reasonable people."
Ylaris smiled faintly.
"The Pyrathi are not harmed by ordinary fire."
Qaritas stared.
"Of course they aren't."
He looked toward the distant settlements.
"Must be convenient."
"Usually."
Something in Ylaris's voice changed.
Qaritas noticed.
"Usually?"
Ylaris didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
he looked toward the western horizon.
Where the mountains became darker.
Where the glowing rivers grew thinner.
Where enormous clouds of ash gathered beneath the sky.
"Ashenwatch was built around one of the oldest fire wells."
Kysena approached.
"A sacred site?"
Ylaris nodded.
"According to the old records, its central furnace burned continuously."
Qaritas frowned.
"Continuously?"
"For generations."
"Then what happened?"
Ylaris's expression darkened.
"The flame went out."
Silence.
Qaritas looked at him.
"That sounds bad."
"For a fire settlement?"
Ylaris turned.
"Very."
The first warning came an hour before they reached Ashenwatch.
The Hearthmind slowed.
Not gradually.
Not gently.
The entire train shuddered.
Blue flames beneath the hull flared.
The Octaflame Heart pulsed violently.
Qaritas stumbled.
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
Ylaris caught the control railing.
Kysena steadied herself against a pillar.
Xheavend looked toward the windows.
Outside—
the landscape had changed.
The glowing volcanic plains were gone.
In their place—
black earth.
Dead trees.
And ash.
So much ash.
It covered the ground like snow.
Except—
it wasn't white.
It was black.
Gray.
Silver.
And occasionally—
deep crimson.
Qaritas approached the window.
"...Oh."
Ylaris's expression hardened.
Kysena whispered—
"Something happened here."
The Hearthmind projected symbols across the controls.
Ylaris studied them.
Then—
"There's interference ahead."
Qaritas looked at him.
"What kind?"
"Thermal."
"That sounds manageable."
"Elemental."
"Less manageable."
Ylaris's eyes narrowed.
"And something else."
Qaritas sighed.
"Naturally."
The train slowed further.
Its eight flames dimmed.
Outside—
a mountain rose from the ash-covered plains.
Not particularly tall.
But enormous in breadth.
Its slopes were coated in black volcanic glass.
And at its summit—
a plume of dark smoke twisted into the sky.
Qaritas stared.
Something about the mountain bothered him.
Not its shape.
Not the smoke.
The silence.
There were no birds.
No wandering elemental creatures.
No insects.
No wind.
Even the ash seemed reluctant to move.
Then—
the train stopped.
Completely.
Qaritas blinked.
"...Why?"
Ylaris studied the controls.
"The rails end here."
Qaritas looked outside.
Two black crystal ribbons stretched toward the ruined valley.
Then—
vanished beneath ash.
Not broken.
Not destroyed.
Buried.
He sighed.
"Of course."
The Hearthmind's flames shifted.
Blue.
White.
Then—
red.
Ylaris looked toward the symbols.
"It won't continue."
Qaritas folded his arms.
"Tell it we're very charming."
Ylaris didn't look at him.
"It says the route is unsafe."
Qaritas stared.
"...Did it actually say that?"
"Yes."
"And the charming part?"
Ylaris paused.
Then—
"It declined to comment."
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"Wonderful."
They continued on foot.
Ylaris led.
Kysena followed.
Xheavend walked beside Qaritas.
The Book floated between them.
Its purple eyes blinked continuously.
Qaritas had attempted to return it to his bag.
It had refused.
Repeatedly.
He was beginning to suspect the Book enjoyed watching him suffer.
The ash reached their ankles.
Every step left a dark impression.
The air smelled of sulfur.
Burned stone.
And something else.
Something Qaritas couldn't identify.
The sky darkened as they approached the valley.
Not because the sun had set.
Because enormous clouds of ash covered it.
Ylaris raised one hand.
A golden flame appeared above his palm.
The surrounding darkness recoiled.
Qaritas looked at it.
"Useful."
Ylaris glanced back.
"Occasionally."
"Don't become smug."
"Too late."
Kysena smiled faintly.
Then—
stopped.
Qaritas turned.
"Kysena?"
She stood beside a blackened tree.
Its trunk had been twisted into an unnatural shape.
The branches stretched upward.
Frozen.
Brittle.
And beneath it—
something lay in the ash.
Kysena knelt.
Brushed the ground carefully.
A small object emerged.
A bracelet.
Blackened metal.
Set with a tiny red crystal.
She lifted it.
The crystal didn't glow.
Not even faintly.
Ylaris approached.
His expression changed.
"What is it?" Qaritas asked.
Kysena looked toward him.
"A Pyrathi child's bracelet."
Silence.
Qaritas stared.
"How do you know?"
Ylaris answered.
"Fireborn children often wear emberstones."
He looked at the crystal.
"They glow in response to the child's elemental core."
Qaritas frowned.
"And this one?"
Ylaris didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The crystal was dark.
Completely.
Kysena closed her fingers around the bracelet.
Then—
"Someone was here."
Qaritas looked toward the valley.
The ash.
The dead trees.
The enormous black mountain.
He swallowed.
"Yes."
A pause.
"Someone was."
They reached Ashenwatch at twilight.
Or—
what should have been twilight.
The sky had become so dark that Qaritas could barely distinguish the horizon.
Ylaris's golden flame illuminated the path.
And then—
the settlement appeared.
Qaritas stopped.
Completely.
"...Oh."
Nobody spoke.
Because there—
beneath layers of volcanic ash—
stood a city.
Not a village.
Not a small mining settlement.
A city.
Blackened towers rose from the ground.
Collapsed bridges connected shattered buildings.
Stone streets disappeared beneath ash.
Enormous furnaces stood cold.
Crystalline chimneys stretched toward the sky.
And everywhere—
everywhere—
were people.
Qaritas stared.
At first—
he thought they were statues.
Hundreds.
Possibly thousands.
Frozen in the streets.
Inside doorways.
Beside market stalls.
Near fountains.
Some stood upright.
Others knelt.
A few reached toward the sky.
Their bodies had been transformed into black glass.
Not ordinary glass.
Something darker.
Deeper.
A volcanic material that captured every contour.
Every gesture.
Every final movement.
Qaritas looked toward a figure near the entrance.
A woman.
Her arms extended.
As though trying to shield something.
Behind her—
a smaller figure.
A child.
Frozen against her body.
Qaritas stopped breathing.
"...No."
Kysena covered her mouth.
Ylaris's flame dimmed.
Xheavend went still.
The Book floated forward.
Its pages turned.
Slowly.
Then stopped.
Qaritas looked around.
The city had died standing.
And somehow—
it had remained exactly where death found it.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
Then—
Qaritas approached the nearest figure.
A man.
Broad-shouldered.
His body resembled polished obsidian.
One arm stretched toward a collapsed doorway.
His mouth was open.
Not in a scream.
In a warning.
Qaritas looked toward the doorway.
Beyond it—
three smaller figures huddled together.
He swallowed.
"Ylaris."
The Sun Ascendant approached.
"What?"
Qaritas gestured toward the man.
"Can Pyrathi turn into glass?"
Ylaris's expression darkened.
"Not naturally."
"Could fire do this?"
"Ordinary fire?"
"No."
"Elemental fire?"
Ylaris hesitated.
"Under certain conditions, perhaps."
Qaritas looked at him.
"What conditions?"
Ylaris knelt beside the figure.
Placed two fingers against its chest.
Golden light spread across the black glass.
For one moment—
something appeared beneath the surface.
A tiny cavity.
Where a Pyrathi's elemental core should have burned.
Empty.
Ylaris withdrew his hand.
His face had gone cold.
"His core is gone."
Kysena approached.
"Gone?"
"Extinguished."
Silence.
Qaritas looked toward the other figures.
"All of them?"
Ylaris didn't answer.
Instead—
he moved toward another.
Touched its chest.
Golden light.
An empty cavity.
Another.
The same.
Another.
Again.
By the fifth—
Ylaris stopped.
His hand remained against the glass.
His expression was terrible.
Qaritas swallowed.
"Ylaris?"
The Sun Ascendant looked up.
"These people didn't simply burn."
Silence.
"Something extinguished their elemental cores."
Kysena went still.
Xheavend looked toward the ruined city.
Qaritas felt his stomach twist.
"Could that happen naturally?"
Ylaris's answer was immediate.
"No."
They moved deeper into Ashenwatch.
The streets were narrow.
Ash-covered.
Silent.
Everywhere—
the black-glass dead remained.
A merchant stood behind a ruined stall.
His hands extended toward coins that had melted into the stone.
A woman sat beside a broken fountain.
A child clung to her shoulder.
Three guards stood near the central avenue.
Weapons raised.
Bodies turned toward something that had approached from the western district.
Qaritas followed their gaze.
Toward the mountain.
The enormous black mountain beyond the city.
Its summit still smoked.
Something about it—
felt wrong.
Not merely dangerous.
Wrong.
As though the mountain had been built over a wound.
Qaritas stopped walking.
Something was wrong.
Not with the mountain.
Well—
there was obviously something wrong with the mountain.
It was black, enormous, smoking, and generally behaving like something that had been personally offended by existence.
But that wasn't what bothered him.
It was the dead.
He looked toward the three guards standing in the central avenue.
Their weapons were raised.
Their bodies had been turned to black glass.
And all three faced the western district.
Toward the mountain.
Qaritas frowned.
"...Wait."
Ylaris turned.
"What?"
Qaritas didn't answer.
He walked toward the nearest guard.
A Pyrathi man.
Broad-shouldered.
His glass-covered face was frozen in an expression of absolute terror.
One hand held a weapon.
The other—
pointed.
Qaritas followed the outstretched finger.
Not toward the mountain's summit.
Lower.
Toward the base.
He turned.
Across the avenue, a merchant stood frozen behind his stall.
His head was tilted in the same direction.
A woman beside the fountain had been caught trying to drag her child away.
But her eyes—
they too—
were fixed toward the mountain.
Qaritas slowly looked around.
"...Ylaris."
The Sun Ascendant approached.
"What is it?"
"Look at them."
Ylaris studied the figures.
"The dead?"
"No."
Qaritas pointed toward the guards.
"The direction they're facing."
Ylaris frowned.
Qaritas continued.
"Those guards were prepared to fight something."
"Yes."
"But look at the merchant."
He gestured toward the ruined stall.
"He's not fighting."
Then the woman.
"She's running."
Then a smaller figure beside the road.
"And that child was hiding."
Kysena approached.
"What are you thinking?"
Qaritas rubbed his chin.
"That whatever happened here didn't simply fall out of the sky."
Silence.
He looked toward the mountain.
"Everyone saw it coming."
Ylaris's expression changed.
Qaritas continued.
"But here's the problem."
He pointed toward the distant summit.
"If the mountain erupted, why are so many of them facing its base instead of looking upward?"
Kysena studied the streets.
"Perhaps something came down the mountain."
"Perhaps."
Qaritas crouched.
Brushed ash from the stones.
Beneath it—
the road was fractured.
Not randomly.
Long black lines crossed the avenue.
Some followed the direction of the street.
Others disappeared beneath buildings.
He placed two fingers against one.
Cold.
Completely cold.
But the surrounding stone remained faintly warm.
"...That's strange."
Ylaris knelt beside him.
"What?"
Qaritas gestured toward the crack.
"The road is still warm."
"Residual volcanic heat."
"Then why is this part cold?"
Ylaris touched the fracture.
Golden light spread beneath his fingers.
His expression darkened.
"...That isn't an ordinary crack."
Qaritas looked at him.
"What is it?"
"An old elemental channel."
Kysena went still.
"The city's fire arteries?"
Ylaris nodded slowly.
"They carried controlled elemental energy beneath Ashenwatch."
Qaritas looked toward the dead.
Then toward the mountain.
Then back at the channel.
"...So the city had fire running beneath it."
"Yes."
"And now every one of these channels is cold."
Ylaris said nothing.
Qaritas slowly stood.
His expression hardened.
"Something didn't just destroy Ashenwatch."
A pause.
"Something happened to the system keeping it alive."
Behind him—
the Book opened.
Its purple eyes blinked.
Ink spread across a page.
One word appeared.
OBSERVE.
Qaritas stared.
Then—
"...Oh, NOW you want me to do the work?"
The Book snapped shut.
Kysena almost smiled.
But Ylaris remained focused on the dark channels.
And beyond the city—
the mountain released another slow breath of ash.
Silence.
Qaritas felt something cold settle in his stomach.
"Ylaris."
The Sun Ascendant approached.
Qaritas pointed.
"Look."
Ylaris studied the words.
His expression changed.
Kysena leaned closer.
"Fire. Chain."
Xheavend whispered—
"Altest."
Qaritas looked at her.
"You think he's here?"
She stared toward the mountain.
"I don't know."
The Book's pages snapped shut.
Qaritas looked toward it.
"...That was unhelpful."
But this time—
he didn't sound amused.
They found the first evidence of the Guard beneath a collapsed archway.
Not a body.
Not a weapon.
Something smaller.
A strip of material.
Pale.
Thin.
Almost translucent.
It clung to the black stone like discarded parchment.
Qaritas crouched.
"...What is that?"
Kysena approached.
She studied it.
Then—
her expression changed.
"Don't touch it."
Qaritas immediately withdrew his hand.
"Wonderful."
Ylaris raised a small flame.
The material shifted.
Not burned.
Shifted.
As though trying to curl away from the heat.
Qaritas stared.
"...Oh, I hate that."
Xheavend approached.
Her mismatched eyes narrowed.
Then—
"Skin."
Silence.
Qaritas slowly turned.
"...What?"
She looked toward the material.
"Discarded skin."
Kysena's expression darkened.
"From the Guard?"
Xheavend nodded.
Qaritas stared.
Then—
"Of course."
He rubbed his face.
"Of course the skin-stealing nightmare creature leaves its laundry everywhere."
Ylaris looked toward the ruined avenue.
"Then it came here."
Qaritas nodded.
"Yes."
Kysena looked at the material.
"Can we preserve it?"
Ylaris formed a small ring of golden light around the fragment.
Kysena carefully lifted it with a metal instrument.
The material twitched.
Qaritas recoiled.
"Absolutely disgusting."
Xheavend hadn't laughed.
Qaritas noticed.
Usually, his jokes earned at least an exhausted smile.
This time—
nothing.
She stood beside the collapsed archway, staring at the black-glass figures.
Her mismatched eyes moved from one frozen face to another.
Then another.
Qaritas followed her gaze.
"Xhea?"
She raised one hand.
Not toward him.
Toward the nearest Pyrathi.
A woman holding a child.
Xheavend's fingers trembled.
"...That's wrong."
Qaritas's smile disappeared.
"What is?"
She swallowed.
"The dead."
He waited.
"They're standing beside their bodies."
Her voice dropped.
"But they won't come closer."
Qaritas looked toward the glass figures.
"...Why?"
Xheavend slowly turned toward the mountain.
"They're afraid."
"Of the Guard?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
A pause.
"But whatever frightened them..."
Her eyes returned to the motionless child.
"...they still believe it's here."
Not at the skin.
Not at the ruins.
At something beyond them.
"There's more."
Qaritas frowned.
"More what?"
Her expression changed.
"The dead."
Silence.
He looked around.
At the glass figures.
The frozen people.
The ash.
"Xhea..."
She shook her head.
"They're here."
Her voice trembled.
"But..."
She stopped.
Qaritas approached.
"But what?"
Xheavend looked toward the nearest glass figure.
A woman holding a child.
Her eyes filled.
"They're not speaking."
Qaritas went still.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"I can see them."
A pause.
"Some of them."
Qaritas looked around.
He saw nothing.
Only the ruined city.
Xheavend continued.
"They're standing beside their bodies."
Her voice became quieter.
"But they won't come closer."
Kysena approached.
"Why?"
Xheavend shook her head.
"I don't know."
She looked toward the mountain.
Then—
"They're afraid."
Silence.
Qaritas felt something tighten in his chest.
"Afraid of what?"
Xheavend's expression darkened.
She whispered—
"Whatever is still here."
The central square had once been beautiful.
Qaritas could tell.
Even beneath the ash.
Four enormous statues stood around a circular plaza.
Each represented one of Lamentis's elemental Ascendants.
Altest.
Arthan.
Ariyion.
Akaizu.
Fire.
Earth.
Air.
Water.
Their forms rose above black stone pedestals.
Gold and crystal ornaments covered their clothing.
Ancient inscriptions circled the plaza.
And at the center—
stood a colossal furnace.
Or—
what remained of one.
The structure had collapsed inward.
Its outer rings were cracked.
Its crystalline channels lay shattered.
The enormous flame that should have burned within—
was gone.
Qaritas approached.
"That must be the fire well."
Ylaris nodded.
"Yes."
Kysena looked toward the statues.
"They honored all four brothers."
"Of course," Ylaris replied.
Qaritas glanced at him.
"Even in a fire settlement?"
Ylaris nodded.
"Altest governed the flames."
He gestured toward the surrounding landscape.
"Arthan stabilized the earth beneath them."
Another statue.
"Ariyion carried the heat away when it became dangerous."
Then—
"Akaizu controlled the waters that cooled the volcanic channels."
Qaritas looked around.
"So they worked together."
"Yes."
A pause.
"That was the purpose of the four."
Qaritas stared at the statues.
Four brothers.
Four domains.
One world.
And now—
all four were missing.
The furnace was dead.
The city was glass.
And the mountain continued smoking.
He looked toward Ylaris.
"What happens when one of them disappears?"
Ylaris's expression darkened.
"The others compensate."
"And when all four disappear?"
Silence.
Ylaris looked toward the ruined furnace.
"Eventually..."
He swallowed.
"The balance fails."
Kysena discovered the first survivor.
Not living.
Not exactly.
But—
something.
She had been examining the shattered furnace when she stopped.
Her gray eyes narrowed.
"Ylaris."
He approached.
"What?"
She knelt beside a cracked section of the central ring.
A faint red light pulsed beneath the stone.
Qaritas leaned closer.
"...Is that fire?"
Kysena shook her head.
"Not ordinary fire."
She pressed her palm against the ground.
Moonlight spread from her fingers.
The stone illuminated.
And beneath it—
something appeared.
A tiny ember.
No larger than a grain of sand.
Flickering.
Weak.
But alive.
Ylaris went completely still.
Qaritas looked at him.
"What?"
The Sun Ascendant knelt.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He held one hand above the ember.
Golden light surrounded it.
The tiny flame trembled.
Then—
brightened.
Kysena gasped.
Qaritas stared.
"...What is it?"
Ylaris's voice was barely audible.
"An elemental core."
Silence.
Qaritas looked toward the glass figures.
Then back at the ember.
"One of theirs?"
Ylaris nodded.
"Possibly."
Kysena leaned closer.
"It's still active."
"Barely."
Qaritas looked at the flame.
It trembled inside the cracked stone.
Small.
Fragile.
Almost extinguished.
Then—
he looked toward Ylaris.
"Can you save it?"
The Sun Ascendant didn't answer immediately.
He studied the ember.
Then—
"I can try."
Qaritas nodded.
"Good."
Ylaris looked toward him.
"Qaritas."
"What?"
"This is not a body."
"I know."
"It may be only a remnant."
"I know."
"We don't know whether the consciousness attached to it remains."
Qaritas looked at the ember.
Then—
"Try anyway."
Silence.
Ylaris studied him.
Then nodded.
He cupped his hands around the tiny flame.
Golden solar fire flowed between his fingers.
Not consuming.
Not overwhelming.
Supporting.
Kysena added a thin veil of moonlight.
The two powers intertwined.
Warmth.
Coolness.
Fire.
Restoration.
The ember brightened.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
it recoiled.
Qaritas blinked.
"...Did it just move?"
Ylaris didn't answer.
The tiny flame twisted away from his golden light.
Not toward the warmth.
Away from it.
As though something inside remembered being touched by fire.
Kysena frowned.
"It's afraid."
The ember flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then a whisper escaped it.
So faint Qaritas almost missed it.
"...Held..."
The flame collapsed.
Kysena immediately steadied it.
Ylaris closed his hands.
Golden light formed a protective sphere around the ember.
Qaritas stared.
Then slowly—
looked toward the mountain.
"...Oh."
Kysena immediately steadied it.
Ylaris closed his hands.
Golden light formed a protective sphere around the ember.
Qaritas stared.
Then slowly—
looked toward the mountain.
"...Oh."
They didn't leave the square immediately.
Kysena insisted on examining the remaining furnace fragments.
Ylaris agreed.
Xheavend walked among the glass figures, speaking softly to spirits Qaritas couldn't see.
And Qaritas—
searched.
Not randomly.
Not without purpose.
He'd seen enough ruined civilizations to know that destruction left evidence.
Even when the people responsible tried to bury it.
Especially then.
He returned to the fractured avenue.
The black-glass citizens remained motionless.
The ruined furnace stood behind him.
And beyond the western district—
the mountain watched.
Qaritas crouched beside a broken stone slab.
Ancient inscriptions covered its surface.
He brushed away the ash.
Four symbols emerged.
Fire.
Earth.
Air.
Water.
He frowned.
"...Interesting."
Ylaris approached.
"What?"
Qaritas pointed.
"These are the four elemental domains."
"Yes."
"Why would they be carved into a furnace district?"
Ylaris studied the slab.
"Because the four domains once worked together to regulate Lamentis's elemental arteries."
Qaritas looked up.
"All four?"
"Yes."
"Even here in Vharos?"
Ylaris nodded.
"Fire may dominate this kingdom, but no elemental system survives through fire alone."
Qaritas looked back at the stone.
Four symbols.
Four branching lines.
One central circle.
Then—
he noticed something.
"...Wait."
He brushed more ash away.
Beneath the original carvings—
another mark appeared.
A fifth.
Not carved with the same precision.
Not made from the same technique.
It had been cut deeply into the stone.
Violently.
A chain.
Qaritas stared.
"...That's not supposed to be there."
Ylaris knelt beside him.
His golden eyes narrowed.
"No."
Kysena approached.
"What's wrong?"
Qaritas pointed toward the four elemental symbols.
"Look at the carving."
She studied it.
"The original design is symmetrical."
"Exactly."
He gestured toward the fifth mark.
"But this isn't."
Ylaris's expression darkened.
Qaritas continued.
"Someone added it afterward."
Silence.
Kysena examined the edges.
"These marks are much newer."
"And deeper," Qaritas added.
He looked toward the mountain.
Then back at the slab.
"Four elemental powers."
He counted them.
"Fire."
"Earth."
"Air."
"Water."
His finger stopped above the chain.
"And someone decided they needed a fifth."
Ylaris's golden flames dimmed.
"...Binding."
Qaritas looked up.
"What?"
"The symbol."
Ylaris's voice became cold.
"It resembles a binding mark."
Qaritas stared.
Then—
slowly—
he looked toward the city.
The extinguished cores.
The ruined furnace.
The black-glass citizens.
The discarded skin.
The mountain.
And the woman inside the surviving ember—
whispering that someone had held it.
His expression hardened.
"...Oh."
Kysena looked at him.
"What?"
Qaritas stood.
"I think we're looking at two different things."
Ylaris frowned.
"Explain."
"The city was destroyed."
"Yes."
"But something beneath the mountain is still alive."
Kysena nodded slowly.
"And?"
Qaritas pointed toward the fifth mark.
"What if whoever destroyed Ashenwatch didn't just want the city dead?"
Silence.
He looked toward the mountain.
"What if they wanted whatever was beneath it trapped?"
The Book floated closer.
Its purple eyes widened.
It opened.
Ink spread across a single page.
POSSIBLE.
Qaritas stared.
"...Possible?"
The Book blinked.
"That's all you have to say?"
It turned another page.
CONTINUE.
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"Oh, you are enjoying this."
The Book snapped shut.
Ylaris remained focused on the stone.
And for the first time since entering Ashenwatch—
Qaritas began to suspect that the city's destruction had not been the end of whatever happened here.
It had been part of something that was still happening.
Qaritas remained beside the slab.
The fifth symbol stared back at him.
A chain.
Someone had carved it into the original design.
Someone who had known exactly where the four elemental powers converged.
He looked toward the mountain.
Then—
CLINK.
Qaritas didn't move.
For a moment, he thought the sound had come from the broken furnace.
But the furnace was dead.
And the sound—
had come from below.
CLINK.
This time, Ylaris heard it too.
His golden flames dimmed.
Qaritas looked at him.
Neither spoke.
Then—
CLINK.
Closer.
Louder.
The Book opened.
A single word appeared.
BELOW.
And beneath the ruined city—
something moved.
The ground trembled.
Not violently.
Not enough to throw anyone off balance.
Just—
a small movement.
Like something enormous shifting in its sleep.
Qaritas looked down.
The ash around his boots quivered.
Then settled.
He stared.
"...I dislike that."
Ylaris approached.
His golden eyes narrowed.
"Something is moving beneath us."
"Yes."
Kysena held the protected ember close.
"It might be connected to the furnace."
Xheavend looked toward the mountain.
Her expression changed.
"Q."
He turned.
She was pale.
Even beneath her disguise.
"What?"
Qaritas looked toward the empty street.
He couldn't see them.
The spirits.
The people Xheavend heard.
But he could see her expression.
And that was enough.
"Xhea?"
She didn't answer.
Her mismatched eyes followed something moving between the black-glass figures.
Then—
she stepped backward.
Qaritas immediately moved beside her.
"What?"
Her voice trembled.
"...They're hiding."
He frowned.
"Behind what?"
"Their bodies."
Silence.
Qaritas slowly looked toward the frozen Pyrathi.
"...Their own bodies?"
Xheavend nodded.
A thin line of blood slipped beneath her pink eye.
"They're trying to hide inside them."
Kysena went still.
Ylaris turned.
Qaritas stared.
"...Why?"
Xheavend shook her head.
"I don't know."
Then—
her expression changed.
She looked toward the mountain.
And whispered—
"...No."
Qaritas's stomach tightened.
"What?"
"One of them stayed."
"Who?"
"A little girl."
Silence.
Xheavend looked toward the ruined fountain.
"She's standing beside her mother."
Qaritas followed her gaze.
A black-glass woman.
A small child.
Frozen together.
He swallowed.
"...What is she doing?"
Xheavend listened.
Then—
"One of them stayed."
Qaritas looked toward the ruined fountain.
A black-glass woman stood frozen with her child.
Xheavend stared at them.
"...She's counting."
Qaritas didn't ask what.
Something in her voice told him he didn't want to know.
The mountain trembled.
CLINK.
Xheavend whispered—
"...One."
Silence.
The ash settled.
Somewhere behind them, a loose stone rolled down the broken steps.
CLINK.
"...Two."
Qaritas looked toward Ylaris.
The Sun Ascendant hadn't moved.
Not even his flames were stirring.
Then—
CLINK.
Louder.
"...Three."
The little girl screamed.
Xheavend staggered.
Qaritas caught her before she fell.
"XHEA!"
Her fingers dug into his arms.
She looked toward the mountain.
And whispered—
"She says it hurts him every time."
Then—
Ylaris went completely still.
Qaritas looked toward the mountain.
The chains.
The heartbeat.
The fire beneath the ground.
Something was suffering down there.
Something enormous.
Something powerful.
And the dead of Ashenwatch—
had been listening to it suffer for years.
Qaritas stopped breathing.
The mountain trembled again.
Louder.
Stronger.
And from somewhere beneath the ancient temple—
a voice answered.
Not loud.
Not clear.
Barely more than a whisper carried through stone.
But unmistakably—
alive.
"...Leave..."
Ylaris froze.
Qaritas stared at the doorway.
The voice came again.
Strained.
Exhausted.
Filled with pain.
"...Please..."
A pause.
"...before..."
The ground shook.
Black cracks spread across the temple walls.
Red light pulsed beneath the stone.
And the voice—
broke.
"...it wakes."
Silence.
Then—
something enormous moved beneath the mountain.
And the chains began to scream.