The sanctuary trembled before the first blade even fell.
Cracks raced through the high windows as the Cradleless descended — cloaked in bone-dyed robes, wielding weapons etched with curse-script. No battle cry, no warning.
Only the hooded leader's voice, echoing like prophecy:
> "We will not burn alone."
Then — chaos.
Flames exploded from the braziers as the warding spells collapsed. Ash rose like fog.
The sanctuary's defenders — ancient warriors bound to the cradle's flame — stood their ground, but they were outnumbered.
And the Cradleless didn't come to fight.
They came to destroy.
---
Seraphina Stands
Seraphina stood in the heart of the sanctuary, her hand pressed to her stomach.
The child inside her stirred — not in fear, but in fury. A golden pulse flared from her spine to her fingertips.
> "They come for you," she whispered, "but they'll find me instead."
The cradle-keeper appeared beside her — tall, veiled, his hands marked by old fire.
> "The ashborn flame is not ready," he warned.
"They come too soon."
> "Then we meet them in the fire.
Ravon reached for his blade — and it leapt to his hand with a scream of light.
> "They want the child," he said, voice sharp.
"Then they'll have to burn through us both
The Battle Begins
As the Cradleless surged forward, the sanctuary walls began to collapse, turning into a realm of shifting mirrors and flaming roots.
The battle bent reality.
Time slowed. Light fractured.
The Cradleless leader reached toward Seraphina, her hand glowing with unholy ash—
But just before contact, the child kicked.
And the kick shattered the woman's palm into dust.
The child was no longer sleeping.
And Seraphina's eyes—lit gold from within—met the broken leader's.
> "We are ashborn. We do not burn alone... but neither do we burn in vain."