The forest gave way to silence, as if it had swallowed its warning whole. But Amina knew they were close. The vision, the guardian's cryptic words, the pulsing heat of the flame within her—it all pointed to one truth: Lithris was no myth. It was waiting.
The trees thinned, and then they saw it.
A basin, sunken deep into the earth, hidden by mist and tangled root. At its center, encased in petrified vines and ash-black stone, lay the ruins of a city carved straight from the mountain itself. Obsidian towers pierced through the fog like blades, half-buried statues stared skyward in eternal agony, and the air—cold, thick, humming—smelled of something forgotten.
"Is that…" Kai trailed off, eyes wide.
"Lithris," Valec confirmed grimly. "The city that vanished from all maps. No one believed it existed."
"Then they never looked close enough," Amina said, stepping forward.
The ground beneath their feet changed from soft forest moss to charred, stone-laid paths. Each step echoed like a drumbeat, reverberating through the hollow bones of a city long dead.
But something lived here.
The flame inside her pulsed in time with the heartbeat of the ruins. And then she saw them—sigils, barely visible, etched into the walls in molten gold. They pulsed with every breath she took.
"It's resonating with her," Kai whispered. "This place is bound to the flame."
"No," Valec corrected, eyes narrowed. "This place is the flame. Or at least, where it began."
They crossed the threshold of a shattered archway. The moment they did, the temperature plunged. Amina gasped—the heat within her reacted violently, pushing outward, fighting the icy grip of Lithris.
Then a sound. Not a scream. Not a voice.
A memory.
A thousand voices, layered over each other, whispering, shouting, singing.
They moved cautiously through the ruins. Shadows danced across broken stone halls, whispering of battles fought in silence. Faces of fallen kings and long-dead sentinels stared from frescoes that had survived eons of decay. The entire city was a tomb—and a warning.
"I know this place," Amina murmured.
She paused before a cracked mural, her fingers grazing its surface. It showed a woman—tall, cloaked in fire, her hands raised over a battlefield. Around her, the dead rose in golden flame. Behind her, a crystal tree loomed—the same one from her vision.
"Amariel," Valec said beside her. "That's her."
Amina stared into the woman's eyes. They were her eyes.
"No. That's who I was."
Behind them, the sigils flared, one by one. The ground shook, and from the depths of Lithris, something stirred.
A deep hum rolled through the stone.
Amina turned sharply. "We're not alone."
Stone cracked. Dust spilled from the ceiling.
Then from the darkness, a voice.
"You've finally come."
They spun around. A man stepped forward, his face half-shadowed by a hood, but his presence undeniable. His skin was pale as ash, his eyes like two coals burning dimly. And his aura—it reeked of the flame. But not like Amina's. His was twisted, corrupted.
"Who are you?" Valec demanded, sword half-drawn.
"I am who Amariel could not destroy," the man said calmly. "I am the flame unbound. I am Ashen Var."
Kai stiffened. "That name—he was one of the original Flamebearers. A disciple turned traitor."
"And survivor," Ashen Var said, smiling. "You came for answers, child. But the flame gives nothing freely."
Amina stepped forward, the heat of her body rising. "I didn't come for gifts. I came to end this cycle."
Ashen Var laughed softly. "You think you can end the flame? Foolish girl. You are the cycle."
He raised a hand—and the city came alive.
All around them, flames erupted from the sigils. Specters of the past stepped forward—flame-wraiths wearing armor of ancient days, eyes glowing with hatred. Behind Ashen Var, a great shape stirred in the shadows—a construct of ember and bone, chained to the heart of Lithris.
"You've awakened it," Ashen Var whispered. "And now… you must survive it."
Amina reacted instantly. She threw out her hand, summoning a shield of pure azure fire just as the first wraith lunged. Its blade collided with hers in a thunderclap of light.
Valec was already moving, cutting through two more with brutal efficiency. Kai sent a shockwave of wind through the corridor, scattering embers.
The battle had begun.
Ashen Var vanished into the flame as the construct rose fully—massive, dragon-shaped, its wings of cinder stretching wide. It roared, and the sound alone knocked Kai to his knees.
"Amina!" Valec shouted. "We can't take this thing—"
"We don't need to fight it," she said, eyes locked on its chest. There, embedded in its molten heart, was the Tree of Flame—shattered, incomplete, but still alive.
"The source…" she whispered.
She reached inside herself, drawing on the ancient memory of Amariel. Power surged through her, wild and primal.
And then she leapt, flame trailing behind her, straight toward the beast.
But just as she neared it, the construct's eyes met hers—and they weren't empty.
They were human.
"Amina…" the voice echoed in her head. "Save me…"
She faltered in midair.
That voice—it wasn't a monster.
It was a child.
And then everything turned white.