The night was ink, thick and suffocating.
After the third vault, Aria had barely slept. Her dreams—when they came—were full of shadows and waves, twisted with the Sovereign's laughter. When she woke, Kael was already packing their gear, his jaw tense.
"We head north," he said. "Into the Ashen Vale."
Mira scowled. "You mean the Sovereign's hold?"
"Yes," Aria whispered. "That's where the last vault is."
---
The Ashen Vale
No map dared mark the Ashen Vale. It was a wound in the world—a place where magic bled and rotted. Once a cradle of flamekind, now corrupted by the Sovereign's touch. The trees were bone-white. The rivers hissed with poisoned mist. And at its center lay the Ember Hollow, a crater of raw magic.
It took them four days to reach its edge.
Every step burned.
Every breath tasted like ash and memory.
As they crept through the Vale, Aria felt her flame recoil. It didn't want to burn here. It feared what watched from the trees.
Kael walked at her side, silent. Even Mira didn't speak much—only whispered chants to keep her mind clear. And Lior… he was the first to sense it.
"He's here," Lior said, eyes glazed. "He never left."
Aria turned. "The Sovereign?"
Lior nodded. "He's been waiting."
---
The Ruins of Hollowspire
They came upon it at dawn: a shattered city, overrun with vines of obsidian and thorns that pulsed like veins. Hollowspire had once been a bastion of flamekind—now, it was a monument to failure.
In its center stood a spire that bled red light.
"The last vault is beneath that," Aria said.
But the path wasn't empty.
A girl waited on the broken stairs. She looked like Aria, but older. Scarred. Her eyes glowed blue, and her flame shimmered with darkness.
"You shouldn't have come," the girl said.
Aria froze. "Who—?"
"I'm you," she said. "What you could become."
Then she attacked.
---
Flame Against Flame
The battle was silent. No words. No roars. Just fire.
Aria dodged a lance of shadowflame and countered with a burst of searing light. Her twin—this echo of a possible future—moved like a ghost. Every strike burned more than skin. It seared into memory.
Kael tried to intervene, but was thrown back by a wave of pure force.
"Stay back!" Aria screamed.
She met the twin's blade with her own, forged from raw Emberline. Sparks screamed. Flame twisted into ribbons. Then—
She let go.
Not of her weapon.
Of her fear.
"I am not you," Aria said, and drove her flame into the ground.
The earth split. The shadow twin dissolved into ash.
The path cleared.
---
The Sovereign's Throne
Beneath Hollowspire was a chamber not carved by mortals. The air shimmered with old power, and at its center sat a throne of bone and ember.
Upon it sat the Sovereign.
His eyes were molten gold. His skin was pale fire. And his smile… was sadness.
"I knew you'd come," he said.
Aria stepped forward. "You've stolen from the vaults. Twisted the flame. Why?"
"To survive," he said. "You don't understand what's coming."
"Then show me."
The Sovereign stood. The air trembled.
And then, he showed her.
---
The Memory of the End
Flashes of a world undone. A sky split by chaos. Beasts older than gods. And at the center of it, flame—corrupted, bleeding, dying.
"You think I'm your enemy," he said, voice soft. "But I am the last guardian of what you hold."
Aria staggered. "You lie."
"No," the Sovereign said. "I gave up everything. My name. My soul. To contain the final flame."
He held out a hand. "Join me. We can bind the last vault together."
And Aria—
Didn't answer.
---
Decision
Back on the surface, she sat alone.
Kael approached slowly.
"Well?" he asked.
"I saw something," she said. "I don't know if he's evil... or right."
"What does your flame say?"
Aria looked at her hands. They were trembling. But not from fear.
From power.
"It says the choice is mine."
Kael took her hand. "Then we make it together."
She nodded.
And the storm began.