Kael woke to fire.
Not his.
The clearing was bathed in flickering orange—torches. Shouts. Footsteps.
He rolled and saw Eira crouched behind a fallen tree, her silver eyes locked on the figures approaching.
"Hunters," she hissed.
"From the mines?" Kael whispered.
"Worse. Ash Inquisitors."
That word struck like ice in Kael's spine.
Ash Inquisitors were myth to most. To slaves, they were death incarnate—robed agents of the Divine Houses, tasked with hunting those who used forbidden ash. They didn't imprison. They purged.
"Are they here for me?"
"Of course they are," Eira said. "You lit a flare the size of a mountain last night when you bonded to the Sovereign."
Kael's throat tightened. "Can we run?"
"No. You're not ready. But you can fight."
She pulled a blade from beneath her cloak, curved and etched with runes that shimmered like frost. She tossed Kael a second, smaller dagger. "When the fire comes, let it—but control it."
"I barely managed to turn it off."
"Then turn it on again."
The first Inquisitor stepped into the clearing—a tall, genderless figure draped in black robes stitched with bone-white thread. A metal mask covered the face, smooth and featureless except for a vertical slit where the mouth should be.
It raised a black staff.
"Kael Varian," it said, voice echoing unnaturally. "You possess Sovereign ash. That is a violation of Divine Law. By decree of the Celestine Lords, you are to be executed."
Kael's fists clenched. The heat rose in his core.
Not yet. Not yet.
He stepped forward.
"I didn't ask for this power."
"That changes nothing."
"I'm done being chained."
"Then be unmade."
The Inquisitor struck.
Lightning-fast, the staff shot forward, releasing a shockwave of black ash that tore through the clearing. Trees splintered. Air cracked. Kael dove sideways, rolled, and barely avoided being impaled by splinters of stone.
The ashfire surged in him.
Kael screamed—and this time, he didn't resist.
The fire erupted.
Flames coiled around him like serpents, black and red, flickering with unnatural speed. The Sovereign's power wasn't chaotic now—it was focused, feeding on his intent.
Kael raised his hand.
"Burn."
A jet of black fire roared forward, swallowing the Inquisitor's attack whole.
The masked figure staggered, robes alight.
Eira moved like a ghost—appearing behind another Inquisitor with a slash of her frostblade, severing tendons and spine in a single stroke.
They were fighting together. Efficient. Brutal. And Kael was learning.
For the first time, he didn't feel like prey.
But then the third Inquisitor stepped forward.
No staff. No mask.
Just glowing red eyes and silver ash burning in both palms.
This one was different. Higher rank. Maybe even—
"An Ascendant," Eira whispered, her tone grim.
Kael didn't know what that meant, but he could feel it.
The air bent around this one. Reality warped. The ground cracked under its feet.
Kael was strong now—but not that strong.
"Run," Eira said. "Now."
"I can help—"
"RUN!"
Kael hesitated—
And the world exploded.