It began with whispers.
Then, across the skies, came a sound like burning paper—Ashir had found his voice.
Every mage, flamebearer, or echo-sensitive across the realm dropped to their knees as the god of silence spoke through memory.
> "I am the ash after your flame. The truth behind your lies.
Arien bears my breath. She will be my doorway."
In Pyraeth, panic erupted.
Some blamed Arien, calling her cursed. Others demanded she surrender to the Temple of Binding. But Kael stood before them, sword drawn.
"She's the reason this city still stands. Touch her, and you answer to me."
Joss cracked his knuckles. "And me."
Maev stepped into the square, lifting a glowing relic. "And the gods that aren't dead yet."
Silence followed.
Until Arien herself emerged, not in fear—but in flame.
"I was marked by Ashir," she said. "But I am not his. I choose who I become. And I choose this fight."
The council assembled.
Maev laid out the truth: "Ashir isn't like other gods. He doesn't conquer. He unmakes. If he merges fully with Arien's soul—he'll walk this world again, not as smoke, but as flesh."
Kael turned. "How do we stop him?"
"By going into her soul," Maev answered.
Joss blinked. "Come again?"
"A soul-walk. Dangerous. If we fail, we lose her. And if we win…"
"We might still lose her," Arien finished.
She looked at Kael. "But if I don't face him now, I'll lose everything else."
That night, they lit the Circle of Truth.
Maev wove ancient glyphs. Arien stepped into the center. Kael and Joss each took a hand.
"Don't let go," she whispered.
And then—Darkness.
Not absence—but a world of shadowed flame, cracked mirrors, and laughing
echoes.
They had entered Arien's soul.
And Ashir was waiting.