The past does not sleep. It waits, teeth bared, for its name to be spoken again.
Three days after the Echo theft, Kael receives a sealed letter burned with the mark of Vorian Caelstrom, Headmaster of Aurorium and former War-Seer of the Nine Empyrean Courts.
The letter contains no words — only a strand of Kael's hair, charred at the root.
Lia warns him, "Vorian doesn't summon students. He tests them."
Riven frowns. "Be careful. He's older than the war that broke the Skyline. Some say he was born before time chose a direction."
Kael enters the tower at dusk.
The air inside the Headmaster's sanctum feels thinner, like the world itself is holding its breath.
Vorian's office is a vast circular chamber. One wall is a window showing the stars as they were 12,000 years ago. Another displays all possible futures, flickering like candlelight. Books whisper on their own shelves. Scrolls pulse with golden runes.
Vorian sits upon a chair made of woven roots and bones, his eyes like dying stars.
"You opened the First Seal," he says. "And something older than gods whispered back."
Kael tenses. "Why did you summon me?"
"Because your bloodline is a vault, and I was once its guardian. Until I failed."
Vorian rises. With a gesture, the wall behind him melts away, revealing a staircase that descends into darkness colder than death.
"Come. You must meet the first of your dead."
They descend past twelve sealed doors, each etched with a different Vaelorian crest. Voices whisper through the stone.
At the final door, Vorian stops.
"Beyond here lies King Velcarion Vaelorian, the Bone Crown. Your ancestor. A god-slayer. A betrayer of flame."
He chants a binding incantation, and the door screams open.
Inside is a cavern lit by glowing bones. A sarcophagus of ironwood and white stone rests atop an altar surrounded by runes in Forgotten Script.
Kael steps forward. The lid of the sarcophagus shifts on its own.
A skeletal hand emerges, crowned in twisted gold and silver thorns.
"Who disturbs the oath-breaker?" the voice echoes, deep and cold.
The skeletal form of King Velcarion rises. His eyes burn with cold silver fire. His voice shakes the chamber.
"My blood wakes me. The chain is broken. The Flame-Born walks again."
Kael grips his blade, but Vorian raises a hand.
"This is not an enemy. He is your mirror — should you fail."
Velcarion turns his gaze to Kael.
"Do you know what your birthright truly costs?"
Kael doesn't answer.
Velcarion gestures, and images spiral in the air:
The Old World, burning under twelve suns.
Kael's ancestors, carving thrones from dead gods.
Velcarion placing the Bone Crown on his head, binding a thousand souls into it.
"We were not kings. We were curses given flesh. Every Vaelorian child is born chained to my sin. And when one awakens the Second Flame... I awaken too."
Kael: "Then why speak to me?"
Velcarion: "Because you still have a choice. Burn the world. Or rewrite the curse."
5. A Bargain of Bone and Blood
Velcarion steps from the tomb. His skeletal form begins to crack, smoke curling from his bones.
"I offer you a shard of my crown. Take it, and wield dominion over death. But once worn, the dead will follow you forever."
Kael hesitates.
Then — he reaches out.
The shard burns into his palm, forming a bone-white ring etched with flame sigils.
[🔔 You have acquired: Velcarion's Shard – Passive: Command undead echoes. Active: Summon the Bone Crown for 3 minutes. Once per day.]
The tomb shakes.
Velcarion collapses back into his sarcophagus.
"When the Third Oath is broken… I will return."
Back in his office, Vorian pours wine that glows like moonlight.
"You think this school teaches magic? No. It teaches memory. What we allow to remain. And what we must erase."
He offers Kael a glass.
"There are those in the Council who already fear you. The gods themselves once demanded your line be extinguished. What will you do, Kael Vaelorian, when they come again?"
Kael doesn't drink.
"I'll remember everything they tried to burn."
That night, a raven made of ink lands on Kael's window. In its beak: a scroll of ash.
He opens it.
"You've taken the Bone. Good. Now seek the Heart.
In the ruins of Mirazal, the Choir of Dust sings again.
Bring the Flame. Or the dead will rise alone."
Signed with the mark:
∇ – The Council of Ashes