The path was different now — narrower, jagged, and bleeding heat. The sky above the canyon had turned to a bruised red, like fire smothered beneath heavy smoke. Ash led the way in silence, each step echoing with tension they didn't speak aloud.
Elira followed close behind, her mind racing.
The sigil.
The words carved into the altar.
The betrayed will burn.
It was as if every moment they moved forward, the line between truth and memory blurred a little more.
Ash's voice broke the silence. "That vision… Kale's dream — of us dying, of him being alone — what if it wasn't just fear?"
Lira stepped around a jagged rock, eyeing the shadows. "You think it was prophecy?"
"Or a warning."
Elira's gaze flicked to Kale, who walked several paces behind them now, his hand never straying far from the dagger on his belt. He had changed — not overtly, but subtly. Less banter. Less light. More glances toward the dark.
"He hasn't slept," she murmured. "He hears things in the night."
"Don't we all," Lira replied grimly.
---
The canyon narrowed until it forced them single file. Red crystals jutted from the walls, casting fragmented reflections. At one point, Elira saw her own face mirrored beside Ash's — but her eyes in the image glowed with gold fire.
She blinked. The reflection was gone.
They reached a gate of molten stone — a threshold scorched black, ancient runes carved into the arch.
Lira halted. "This wasn't here last time."
Ash approached cautiously. "It's old. Keeper-era. Maybe older."
Kale stepped forward, brushing his hand against the stone — and the runes lit up in burning script none of them recognized.
Ash's hand shot out. "Stop—!"
But it was too late.
The gate exploded in a wave of light, hurling them all backward.
---
Elira groaned as she opened her eyes. Her ears rang. Ash was beside her, helping her up. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, looking around. Lira was already on her feet, dagger drawn. Kale stood beyond the ruined gate, untouched — and silent.
The path beyond had changed again.
The air shimmered with heat. A towering black monolith stood at the canyon's end, its surface etched with spiraling runes. And around it circled cinders — glowing motes of fire that whispered just beyond hearing.
Lira's face paled. "That's it. The Hollow Spire."
Ash clenched his fists. "We're too close. This is where the Flame's influence is strongest."
Elira stepped forward slowly, a tremor beneath her feet.
"Do you feel that?" she whispered.
It was calling her — not just the Spire, but something deeper. Like an ember waiting to be fanned into flame.
Kale looked at her then, his voice quieter than before. "This is where everything changes."
---
That night, they set up camp just beyond the reach of the Spire's light. The ground was warm, but the air carried an unnatural chill.
Elira stared into the fire, heart pounding. "Ash… do you believe what the voice said? That one of us will betray the others?"
He didn't speak right away. Then: "I believe the Hollow Flame tells truths shaped like lies."
Elira met his gaze. "If I ever turned on you… would you stop me?"
Ash leaned closer, brushing her hair behind her ear with surprising tenderness. "No. I'd remind you who you were… who we were."
A silence fell between them, thick and heavy.
From the darkness beyond the fire, Kale watched them — his hand wrapped around something beneath his cloak. Something glowing.
Something waiting.