Far beneath the world of men, in a place where no sun dared speak, the Cradleless gathered.
Thousands cloaked in ash and bone knelt before the Hooded Woman, their leader, whose eyes had never known light and yet saw everything.
Before her, an obsidian bowl burned with unholy fire, and within it floated a single, golden ember — torn from the sanctuary.
> "So the Ashborne has sparked," she said, her voice hollow. "And the child stirs."
She raised her hand and shattered the ember into smoke.
> "We strike before the child breathes her name. We strike before the gate fully opens. We strike… before she remembers who she is."
Around her, the Cradleless began to chant in a dead language that hadn't been spoken since the First Dimming.
---
Meanwhile… in the North
Within his Tomb of Mirrors, the Silent King stood before his frozen court.
Reflections of long-dead gods shimmered behind him. They whispered truths no man dared utter.
He spoke not to them — but to the thing chained to his throne.
> "The Ashborne's Light calls to you," he said.
The chained creature snarled. Its body was wrapped in molten glass. Wings folded, broken.
> "You were born of the Second Cradle," the King continued. "You will end the Third."
> "Why now?" the chained one growled.
> "Because prophecy bends.
And I have no intention of kneeling to a child born of flame."
He turned, lifting his mirrored sword.
> "Let the light bleed.
Let the veil rip.
Let her see what comes when the sky forgets mercy."
Elsewhere: Between Worlds
In the realm between realms, on the edge of the Eclipsed Plane, a dark figure stood on cracked glass.
His cloak writhed like smoke.
The Watcher of the Gate.
He smiled without lips.
> "So many pieces moving," he murmured. "And none of them remember who placed them on the board."
A single drop of golden light fell through the cracks.
He caught it with a clawed finger and whispered:
> "Little one… you shine too brightly. Shall we dim you before you dream?"
Last Scene: Back in the Sanctuary
Ravon stirred in his sleep.
Beside him, Seraphina felt a sudden chill.
She turned — and saw the shadows outside the sanctuary begin to move.
> The gathering had begun.
And in the darkness…
They whispered the name of the child — not with reverence.
But with fear.