The firestorm left a trail of scorched stone and stunned silence.
Amina stood at the heart of it—unchanged, yet irrevocably transformed.
Gone was the girl who doubted her strength.What remained was a woman born of war, fire, and fate.
But power always came with a price.
The group gathered around her, wary but awestruck. Even Aric, who rarely bent to authority, seemed momentarily humbled.
"You were in there for hours," he finally said. "We thought… maybe you were gone."
Amina looked at him. Her eyes held light now—not reflection, but source. "Time works differently in the Crucible."
Ashar folded his arms, his sharp gaze scanning her newly etched sigils. "What did it show you?"
"Everything," she replied. "Who I was. Who I will be. What we are all walking into."
Kai, the youngest of them, stepped forward, voice soft. "Then tell us. What's coming?"
She hesitated—not from fear, but gravity.
"The Black Flame stirs beneath the roots of the world. It seeks a vessel. One born of pain. One desperate enough to burn the world to feel whole again."
"Lord Vael," Ashar muttered.
"No," Amina corrected. "Vael is just the door. Something older waits behind it."
Just then, the ground rumbled again. A crack split the stone behind them, wide and pulsing red.
A smell rose—char, rot, and sulfur.
Ashar unsheathed his blade. "That's not natural."
A shriek echoed up the chasm.
Then another.
Amina spun toward the pit's edge. Her eyes narrowed. "We need to move. Now."
They fled the Crucible's chamber, the passageways behind them collapsing with unnatural speed. Fire licked at their heels. Shadows danced along the walls, whispering names in broken tongues.
Kai tripped, nearly falling into the abyss, but Amina's hand caught him—fast as lightning.
"Thank you," he gasped.
"You won't fall. Not while I breathe," she answered.
When they burst into the open, the sun had already dipped low. The air tasted of storm.
But they weren't alone.
A figure in silver robes stood at the valley's edge, hair wild like seafoam, eyes glowing with the same eerie fire as Amina's.
"Finally," the woman said. "The Flameborn awakens."
Ashar moved protectively in front of Amina. "Who are you?"
The woman raised her hand and the ground obeyed, forming jagged stone beneath her feet. "A friend. A rival. A mirror."
Amina stepped forward, eyes locked with hers. "You're one of us."
"No." The woman smiled. "I am what comes after you fail."
With a flick of her wrist, a pulse of energy blasted across the valley. Trees bent. Birds screamed. The sky fractured.
Amina countered instinctively, casting a flame-wall so bright it singed the clouds.
The two forces met mid-air—flame and storm.
Power surged. The land groaned.
Then silence.
The woman lowered her hand slowly. "You've grown strong, Flameborn. But strength alone won't save you."
Amina asked, "Then what will?"
She smiled darkly. "Sacrifice."
With that, she vanished into mist—leaving behind a single feather made of smoke.
That night, they made camp near the Singing Stones, where ancient songs still hummed in the earth. The group was quiet—each wrapped in their thoughts.
Amina sat apart from the rest, staring into the fire.
Kai finally approached. "Do you think she's right? That we'll fail?"
Amina didn't look away from the flames. "Maybe. But failure isn't the end."
"What is?"
Her fingers clenched. "Surrender."
He sat beside her. "So… what now?"
She answered, her voice iron:"Now, we find the Sealed Temple.Before the Black Flame does."
Far away…
In a ruined citadel buried beneath obsidian mountains, a throne stirred.
On it sat a boy—no older than twelve—wrapped in shadows, eyes hollow.
He whispered Amina's name.
And somewhere, the Black Flame smiled.