The night at the Ember Academy wrapped everything in a shroud of ash.
Obsidian towers rose like sharp fangs against a sky dyed in deep red—
as if the horizon itself bled under the weight of a dying sun.
I sat in my small room,
a spartan cell carved into black stone.
The bed creaked beneath me,
the narrow window letting in the distant roar of the eternal fire that fed the runes of the Academy.
My body was a map of pain.
My ribs still protested from training.
The wounds from the fight with Sylene burned beneath my torn robe.
And the black veins of Aether twisted under my skin like living serpents—
a constant reminder of the price of my power.
Lirien's amulet,
dark and cold like a forgotten shard of ice,
hung from my neck,
its weight an anchor to a past fading into the mists of memory.
In my trembling hand,
the relic of Dren pulsed with a violet glow—
echoing the runes carved into the walls.
A whisper from the Threshold that haunted even silence.
Nyra slept in the next room.
Her breath was shallow and ragged after the brutal fight with Sylene.
Her presence, a fragile refuge in the chaos.
The Threshold whispered in my mind.
Its voice, a blade digging into my skull:
> "Secrets are your weapon, Echo.
Seek, or the throne will blind you."
And then, the words of the mysterious apprentice echoed like a war drum:
> "The relic... keep it safe.
The Sins aren't the only ones who want it."
There was something else at the Academy.
A veil of mystery that Lysara—
with her white fire and ember eyes—
kept hidden behind her towering authority.
I stood up.
My joints cracked in the silence.
Pain screamed through my body, but I forced it down.
I hid the relic in my robes,
its searing heat branding my chest.
I gripped my dagger—
still stained with ash and dried blood from the Crucible—
and stepped into the hallway.
The runes pulsed like living veins,
guiding me with their flickering light toward a fate I didn't yet understand.
Then—
the silence shattered.
A sinister crack echoed through the stone,
like the rock itself groaning under invisible pressure.
Shadows with crimson eyes slithered from the walls.
Servants of the Threshold.
Their ethereal bodies formed from violet mist that stank of sulfur.
I screamed—
a guttural cry fueled by adrenaline—
and charged.
My dagger sliced through the air,
its edge burying into one of their heads.
It dissolved in a storm of cursed ash.
But victory was brief.
Two more lunged at me.
One's claws tore into my left arm.
Pain exploded through me.
I rolled across the cold floor,
the impact shooting agony through my ribs.
I kicked wildly, smashing another shadow against the wall.
It crumbled in a silent scream.
The third came for my throat.
I barely dodged,
driving my blade into its chest mid-fall.
Purple blood splashed across my face like a curse.
I stumbled into a door hidden behind a tapestry of flame.
The threads were woven with glowing purple runes.
I pushed it open with my shoulder—
and entered a hidden library.
The air smelled of ancient parchment and forbidden magic.
Shelves packed with dust-covered tomes.
Walls pulsing with runes that beat like hearts.
Another shadow leapt from a high shelf.
Its eyes blazed like lanterns.
I ducked just in time,
slashing its back as it fell.
It burst into ash.
Books rained down, burying me partially.
Another shadow emerged.
Its claw slashed my right leg.
I screamed.
The pain pierced me like a spear.
I tore free,
driving my blade into its chest.
Purple ichor stained the floor in a sticky pool.
Then—
he appeared.
The mysterious apprentice.
Eyes of gray steel under the flickering torchlight.
Young, like me.
His robe marked with earth runes.
A knotted staff in his grip.
> "Vaelis!" he roared.
His staff struck the ground.
Earth rose to form a rugged shield—
blocking a shadow that had snuck up behind me.
> "Keep moving!"
A golem of stone erupted from the floor.
It smashed two shadows with a single blow.
Stone cracked from the force.
> "Who are you?!" I growled.
I ran toward him, dagger dripping purple blood,
air thick with ozone and tension.
Before he could answer—
the door exploded open.
Kaelith stormed in like a fiery tempest.
His sword burned with living flames.
His crimson eyes were wild with fury.
> "Traitor!" he roared.
He struck at Eryndor—
his blade clashing with the apprentice's staff.
Sparks lit the library like lightning.
A fire dragon appeared beside him,
black-scaled, maw open in a thunderous roar.
> "Die!"
A wave of fire surged across the room.
I leapt aside.
The heat scorched my robes, blistered my skin.
I charged.
My dagger aimed at Kaelith's side.
He blocked it.
The force knocked me back.
The dragon attacked.
Its claw tore across my back.
Pain erupted in a scream.
I rose with effort,
threw my dagger.
It buried in the dragon's eye.
It reeled, roaring—
but Kaelith tamed it with a flick of his hand.
His flames surged into a burning wall.
Eryndor raised his staff.
The golem charged, colliding with the dragon in a clash of earth and fire.
The whole room trembled.
> "The relic!" Kaelith shouted,
eyes locked on the lump beneath my robe.
The floor quaked violently.
Spikes of fire burst from the ground.
I dodged desperately.
One spike tore my thigh.
Hot blood streamed down.
I climbed a shelf,
hands trembling.
I leapt—
my dagger a deadly arc.
Kaelith blocked again,
slamming me into the wall.
I gasped, breath knocked out.
The Aether screamed inside me,
a storm begging to be unleashed.
But my body was failing.
Black veins crushed my heart.
Blood dripped from my eyes.
I resisted—barely.
The relic pulsed.
I drew it out.
A violet explosion blasted the room.
Kaelith and the dragon were hurled into the wall.
The golem shattered.
Eryndor collapsed to his knees.
I hit the floor, blood pouring from my mouth.
The veins spread, devouring me like roots.
The Threshold laughed in my skull:
> "Envy watches you, Echo."
Kaelith rose,
armor cracked, face twisted in rage.
He charged again.
Eryndor intercepted—
staff clashing with sword.
But Kaelith struck him aside,
slamming him into a collapsing shelf.
I attacked.
My dagger cut Kaelith's arm,
red blood arcing through the air.
He roared.
The dragon unleashed an infernal torrent.
I rolled away.
Eryndor raised a final barrier—
earth cracking under the pressure.
> "Stop!" Eryndor shouted.
He sealed the runes.
Purple lines dimmed like dying stars.
The dragon vanished in a spiral of ash.
Kaelith staggered back,
his breath ragged, eyes burning with vengeance.
> "This isn't over," he growled,
then vanished through the shattered door,
leaving only smoke and ruin.
Eryndor helped me up.
His face pale, yet unwavering.
> "The relic is one of seven fragments,"
he said, voice hoarse.
"Together, they can open the Threshold…
or seal it forever.
You must choose, Vaelis:
Claim the throne—
or save Eryndor."
I tucked the relic into my robe.
Its heat scorched my fingers.
A brand of fate.
A vision struck me.
The obsidian throne—
its surface soaked in dripping blood.
Nyra, dead at its base.
Lirien, fading into light.
Envy appeared.
A realm of mirrors wrapped around her.
Her eyes reflected my face,
twisted with pain and ambition.
Other Sins stood behind her:
A shadow king with a crown of night.
A frost queen with a scepter of ice.
A chained monster dragging eternal weight.
A golden specter with sunlit eyes.
A misty figure whispering poisoned promises.
A warrior with bloodstained wings.
A silent shadow with crystal eyes.
A colossus of ash roaring with dying flame.
> "The runes hold truth,"
the Threshold whispered.
"But the throne is your prison, Echo."
I looked at Eryndor.
My breath shallow.
My body barely holding on.
I leaned on him to stay upright.
> "I need to know more," I said.
My voice cold as steel.
My will, forged in battlefire.
The Academy was a secret battlefield.
And I was ready to unravel it—
piece by piece.
No matter the cost.