The road into the Ashwake Basin was lined with the remains of what used to be cities. Blackened towers scorched by dragonfire. Distorted bridges bent from starfall. Winds that whispered not with voices, but with regret.
Yuuto walked across the remains of a broken sundial. Its shadow still indicated west, as if struggling to recall the moment before the sky was aflame.
"Was this.," he started.
Kaela responded before he stopped speaking. "One of the Flame Accord's outer colonies. Prior to the Sundering."
He swallowed hard. "They didn't fall. They were erased."
Kaela did not respond this time. The silence was enough.
They glided like specters, veiled in dust and remembrance. Every step further into the basin drew more from Yuuto's Brand—heat building beneath his skin, light dancing at the fringes of his perception. The Brand wasn't responding to threat.
It was harmonizing.
Summoning.
"What's down here?" he asked. "What are we getting into?"
Kaela slowed. Her face shadowed. "The Ember Vault. Sealed during the rebellion. Lost in the fall."
"And now?
"Now, something's attempting to open it."
They came to the edge of the cliff, and Yuuto gazed down into the scar that ripped across the continent like a rents in the world. At the bottom: the Ember Vault. Or what was left of it. Black stone, scorched glass, and one gate, its cracks partway open.
Light gold oozed from within—like a flame held in check by barely.
Kaela moved forward first.
Yuuto followed.
The drop was vicious. Heat thickened the lower they descended. The route was greasy with slag. Runes glowed on the walls—some dormant, some attempting to power up and failing. The entire Vault was attempting to wake up.
And something had awakened it.
They arrived at the inner doorway, and discovered the sigil: an obsidian Starbrand of ancient times, glowing with soft light.
Yuuto extended his hand, near instinctively.
The instant his fingers touched the stone, the Vault trembled.
Flame leaped from the walls—neither to scorch nor to destroy, but to challenge.
Kaela stood, sword whirling towards the gateway. "We are not alone."
A figure stepped out of the smoke.
Enveloped in gray armor that glowed like burning metal. No face. Only a mask—a Starbrand carved into its front like a scar.
It spoke in a voice like splintering embers:
"You who bear the First Flame. The Forgotten call to you."
Yuuto braced himself. "And who in the hell are you?"
The figure cocked its head. "A Warden. Long entombed. Long silenced. But the Vault remembers."
The air congealed. The Brand on Yuuto's back blazed, responding.
And then the walls moved—illusions stripped away like shed skin.
He saw them.
The Forgotten Starborn.
Figures trapped in stasis. Some ripped apart. Some still intact. Some bound in fireglass, others suspended half-scream.
"They were the first who disobeyed the Flame's will," said the Warden. "They preferred memory to obedience."
Kaela advanced, rage in her tone. "You kept rebels in fire?"
"We kept truth."
The Brand on Yuuto's back burned with confusion—sorrow—rage.
He stumbled. "Why show me this?"
Because your fire is not theirs," the Warden stated. "But your decision will reflect theirs. You will not be spared. You will be forced to make a choice."
"To choose what?"
"To burn. or to remember."
The Vault started to shake again—power building. Magic unraveling at the threads. The Warden stepped back into the flame.
Yuuto looked at Kaela, catching his breath. "I don't think this place is going to hold.
"No. And if it breaks, the Forgotten will awaken."
They ran.
The Vault collapsed behind them—its flames dying with a scream and a whisper. Not everything stayed buried. As they emerged from the crater, Yuuto looked down at his hands.
The Brand had changed.
A second ring of light now orbited the first, like a moon bound to a star.
Kaela noticed it. Said nothing. But her grip on her sword tightened.
Yuuto gazed out over the battle-scarred terrain.
The Vault was lost.
But something deep inside him had been ignited.
Not fury. Not terror.
Memory.
And ashes that clung to life.