When truth is hunted, only blood speaks clearly.
Aurorium's ancient halls echo with bells of obsidian as students and faculty ascend the Black Stairs — a spiraling platform carved from the petrified remains of the World Root, the last divine tree.
It is Moonfall, the Academy's sacred rite of remembrance — a ceremony to honor the gods who died in the First Sundering, and to ritually seal the Crown of Vows, an artifact that binds all student mages to their oaths.
Kael walks in ceremonial black, his cloak embroidered with flame script — a silent protest by Master Rhagor. Lia walks beside him, eyes darting. The moon hangs low and swollen, glowing gold. A storm brews beneath its light.
As the Arch-Mage invokes the Names of Binding, the first scream cuts the air.
From the upper levels of the Black Stairs, masked students leap — wielding glyphs of silencing, shadowblades, and cursed sigils.
The Veil-Born have come to assassinate Kael.
"The goddess reborn must not rise. The Second Sundering begins with your breath!"
Kael is forced to break the Circle of Ceremony, shattering protocol as Lia and Riven defend him. Rhagor is nowhere in sight. The Academy guards freeze — unwilling to interfere in "student conflicts."
But this is no duel.
This is execution.
Cornered at the fifth tier, Kael bleeds from the shoulder — a cursed blade numbs his magic. But when a Veil-Born acolyte threatens Lia, something within him ignites.
Time slows.
The sword falls.
Kael steps through the flame.
He speaks a name.
"Seralyth… lend me your wrath."
The Godflame awakens. But this time, it doesn't burn wild.
Instead, it forms into a sigil — ancient and terrible — the Embercall, the lost invocation of a goddess of vengeance. The entire stairwell ignites with memory-flame.
Each Veil-Born sees their worst betrayal played back to them — their lies, their broken vows, their stolen names.
Some scream and fall.
Others beg.
One leaps at Kael, screaming a name:
"You are not Kael! You are the Crown's Wound! You are—"
A black lance pierces him before he can speak.
Kael didn't throw it.
Rhagor has arrived.
"You're not ready to hear that name, boy."
As the flames settle, a subtle rumble shakes the Black Stairs.
The Crown of Vows — normally inert — begins to pulse with pale light. The fire Kael unleashed has awakened something in it.
A hidden glyph appears on its underside, depicting a thirteen-eyed serpent coiled around a burning cradle.
Lia gasps.
"That's not a god's seal. It's a king's. One of the Thirteen Forgotten Crowns."
Rhagor orders the ceremony ended immediately. The Crown is locked away.
But Kael hears something in the flames before they vanish.
A voice, low and familiar:
"Kael... my heir… you are late."
Later that night, Kael returns to his dormitory, exhausted. Blood seeps through his robe. Riven tends to his wounds, silent but focused. Lia paces, muttering about the Crown, the sigils, the flame.
But then Kael's shadow moves on its own.
From it steps a ghost.
Tall. Cloaked in the banner of Velcarion.
And wearing the broken Bone Crown.
"You have my name. But not my strength.""I am the one you were meant to forget.""Come, Kael Vaelorian. The memory of gods is only the beginning. The memory of kings… is war."
Kael reaches for his flame — but it flickers.
The ghost smirks.
"Flame cannot burn what is already ash."
And vanishes.