Chapter 3 The Children of Broken Fire

The march to the Lower Ring began as dawn filtered through the broken stone columns. The path descended through gorges carved into the rock, where ancient glyphs-half-erased by erosion and time-still glowed faintly in the ashen light. Asha, Kael, and Lirien advanced in silence, accompanied by two exiled guides: Yuren, a man with skin tanned by the cave sun, and Maeka, a woman with ritual scars on her face, like cracks in a once-complete mask.

"They don't live in a fixed place," Yuren said as they descended through a narrow passage. "They move like fire beneath the earth. They never repeat their settlement. They never leave roots. They are like what they worship: that which burns and disintegrates, but leaves a memory."

"And why did they agree to welcome us now?" Asha asked, her gaze fixed on the cliffs.

"Because you carry the shard," Maeka replied without turning around. "Because you awakened one of the Hearts."

No one spoke again.

The journey lasted hours, and as they descended, the air grew thicker, laden with minerals and hot humidity. The ground vibrated slightly, as if the world still breathed beneath their feet. Kael walked more slowly, his right arm now almost completely covered in obsidian. Asha offered hers in support, but he shook his head slightly. Pride, or fear of becoming a burden? Perhaps both.

Finally, the passage opened into a cavern that seemed unnatural. The stone was shaped into curves reminiscent of flames stopped in mid-dance. In the center, a structure of molten rock served as an altar: a black, burnished spiral, embedded with red fragments like still-burning coals. Around it, hooded figures watched in complete silence.

"Welcome to the core of the Children of the Broken Fire," Maeka announced. "Do not approach the altar without permission. Here, memory burns alive."

One of the figures stepped forward. He was an old man with ashen skin, hollow eyes, and eyebrows as white as the whitewash on the ceiling. His robes were embroidered with oxidized copper threads that formed a spiraling symbol: the same one Asha had seen engraved on the edges of her Aeolina bracelet.

"Are you the one who remembers?" he asked, plainly.

"I am Asha," she replied. "Bearer of a Heart fragment. And I seek answers."

The old man regarded her for a long moment, as if wanting to read her beyond the words. Then he nodded.

"I am Ezkhar, last broken Keeper. Here we do not ask permission of memories. We confront them."

Asha felt a pang in her chest. The term "Keeper" had stopped sounding sacred long ago. And yet, that old man did not resemble the temple's oppressors, nor the ash judges who sentenced with fire. There was something worn about him. Something that seemed to have survived too many truths.

"Kael," she said, pointing to the warrior who was barely able to stand upright. "He is... changing. The obsidian is consuming him. We believe he is linked to the shard I carry."

Ezkhar approached Kael slowly. He studied him without touching him. Then he placed a hand on his own chest and said,

"It's not a curse. It's an inversion."

"What does that mean?" Asha asked tensely.

"Obsidian is solidified memory. In ancient times, the most powerful Keepers sealed parts of themselves within it. Knowledge, emotions, even memories. What you carry in your chest," she said, pointing to the ash shard Asha protected with a leather bandage, "is not just a heart. It's a key." And by holding you, by protecting you, he's becoming a container. It's not that he's losing his humanity. It's that he's taking on another form.

"And can it be stopped?" Kael asked, his voice dry.

"Not without consequences," Ezkhar replied. "But it can be channeled."

The Children of Broken Fire began to gather in a circle around the altar. One of them, a young woman with ash tattoos from her neck to her knuckles, stepped forward.

"The containment ritual can help you," she said. "But if we interrupt it wrong, what you carry could break. And you too."

Kael looked at Asha. His eyes were still hers. Asha nodded.

"Then we will," he said.

Ezkhar held out a bowl made of stone and ash, and with a ritual knife he cut his palm. The black blood that fell into the bowl sparked on contact.

"Here, the blood burns," he said. "Because we do not forget what we are."

The Children began to chant in a low, guttural chant. Kael was led to the center of the circle, where the altar spire seemed to pulse, as if responding to his presence. Asha stood outside the circle, her hands tense, her knuckles white.

Lirien, at her side, murmured,

"If it goes wrong, it could solidify completely."

"It won't go wrong," Asha said, more to herself than to the other.

The chanting intensified. The Children of Broken Fire began tracing symbols with liquid fire around the altar. The air was filled with a metallic scent, as if time itself were rusting. Kael breathed heavily. His petrified arm began to emit a faint reddish glow. Veins of obsidian ignited, as if the insides were burning.

Asha felt her shard pulse in response.

"It and the heart are synchronizing," Ezkhar said. "It's working."

But at that instant, a dry crack was heard. A crack formed in the stone beneath Kael's feet. Not a crack in the earth. In him. In his flesh. In his soul.

Asha ran toward the altar, but Lirien held her.

"If you interrupt him now, he'll break completely!"

"I don't care!" Asha shouted. "He's not a relic, he's a human being!"

Kael looked up. His lips barely moved, but Asha understood him anyway:

"No."

The glow increased. The red veins intertwined, merging, like living roots. Then, suddenly, they went out.

Silence fell.

Kael fell to his knees.

Asha ran to him. Lirien didn't stop her this time. When she reached him, she held him with both arms. Kael's body trembled, but his eyes were open. There was no more obsidian advancing. It had stopped right at the base of his neck.

"Kael?" she whispered.

He nodded weakly.

"I'm still here."

Asha felt a lump in her throat.

Ezkhar moved closer, slower, as if each step contained centuries.

"You've stopped moving. For now. But there's a price."

"What is it?" Kael asked.

"Your bond with her is deeper now. You're no longer just protecting the shard." You hold him. If she falls... you too.

Kael nodded. Not a shadow of doubt on his face.

Asha didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified.

"And me?" she asked. "What should I do to prevent this from killing him?"

Ezkhar looked at her, and for the first time, smiled slightly.

"Remember. And awaken the other shards. Only when all the Hearts are reunited can balance be restored. There will be no healing without truth."

Asha looked down at the shard hidden in her chest.

She knew this was just the beginning.