Chapter 4 Ashes At The Gate

The night air in Eldranth had never tasted so sharp. An eerie hush blanketed the village-so still it seemed even the trees had stopped breathing. Somewhere deep in the woods, a single crow cawed and fell silent, its cry swallowed by a rising hum that vibrated just beneath the earth. Liora jolted awake in Master Dalen's cottage, her heart racing and the mark on her palm glowing fiercely beneath the covers. She stumbled to the window. A strange light shimmered at the horizon, golden and flickering like fire-but there was no smoke, no scent of burning.

Dalen burst through the door seconds later, already dressed, his weathered face pale. "Get up," he said. "It's begun." "What has?" she asked, pulling on her boots. "The breach." A deep tremor rolled underfoot. Outside, villagers had gathered in the square, faces twisted with panic as a second pulse lit the sky-closer this time, and unmistakably magical. A few shouted about fire or invasion, but no one had answers. Liora spotted Kael atop the bell tower, his silver eyes narrowed against the wind. She ran to him. "What is it?" He didn't look at her. "A tear. Between worlds. Something's breaking through." Another flash-this time just beyond the northern border. A split of light cracked open in the sky like shattered glass, and from it poured figures wrapped in smoke and fire. Not demons, not men-something between. "Flameborn wardens," Kael muttered. "Or what's left of them." "They're coming here?" Liora asked, stunned. "For you," Kael said grimly. Below, the villagers screamed and scattered as the flaming apparitions surged toward the outer edge of Eldranth. Master Dalen stood in the center of the road, murmuring words Liora didn't recognize, hands raised. A golden dome of energy formed around the village-but already it strained. Liora ran to him. "What can I do?" "You already started this," Dalen said, voice taut. "Only you can finish it." Kael joined them, his blade unsheathed, crackling with defensive runes. "The breach was triggered by your contact with the arch. These aren't invaders-they're echoes. Guardians corrupted by time, awakened by your presence." Liora's mark blazed. "They're connected to the Flameborn?" "To the Flame," Dalen corrected. "They were protectors once. Now twisted by what lies beyond the Ember Veil." "Then send me," Liora said. "Let me face them." Kael turned sharply. "You're not ready." "I don't care." She lifted her hand, and fire swirled in her palm like a living ribbon. A scream split the air as one of the spectral warriors broke through the barrier. It struck a villager-turning them to ash on contact. "No more," Liora whispered. She stepped forward, the flames dancing up her arm as she walked beyond the warded threshold. The lead specter turned, hollow eyes locking with hers. It raised a burning halberd-then hesitated. It knelt. The others stopped in their tracks. One by one, they followed suit. Kael and Dalen stared, stunned. "They... recognize you," Kael said. Liora's voice shook. "Because I carry the last of the Flame." And as the light of dawn finally broke over the village, the apparitions faded like smoke in wind-leaving only scorch marks and silence behind. But far beyond the woods, past the breach that had not yet closed, darker eyes had seen. And they would come next. The aftermath was a silent reckoning. As the ash settled and the veil of night slowly lifted, villagers began to emerge from their shelters-wide-eyed, faces streaked with soot and disbelief. The air smelled of burnt pine and magic, bitter and strange. Liora stood among the ruins of the outer wall, heart still thundering, the flame on her palm having receded to a dull warmth. Kael moved beside her, scanning the treeline, blades at the ready. "What was that thing?" she asked, her voice rough with smoke. Kael shook his head. "Not a beast. It was summoned. A Wraithflame construct-ancient, unstable. Whoever did this knows what you are." Master Dalen appeared, leaning heavily on his cane. His expression darkened as he took in the scorched earth. "They've begun to test the wards. Probing for weaknesses in the Veil. This was only a message." Liora clenched her fists. "Then let them hear ours." She strode back toward the heart of Eldranth. The villagers parted as she passed, some watching with awe, others with fear. She no longer felt like the outsider. She felt... chosen. That night, Dalen brought forth an old map-stained, faded, but marked with a symbol Liora recognized: the Flameborn crest. "It's time you learn what lies beyond Eldranth," he said. "Time to find the Ember Vault." Kael traced the map with a gloved finger. "It's a long road through wildlands, corrupted lands, and worse. But if the Vault still stands... it may hold the truth we need." Liora looked to the horizon beyond the ruins. The war had begun. But she no longer felt afraid. She felt ready.