The sky above the mountains had changed.
Where once hung a cold, pale moon, now glowed a crimson eclipse. Faint tremors echoed through the earth like a slow, deliberate heartbeat.
Kaela and I emerged from the collapsed temple—me covered in soot, glowing faintly with silver-and-black fire. I could feel the Ashborn still within me, silent, resting, but ever-watchful. He wasn't gone. He was part of me now.
"Darian," Kaela whispered, her voice thin, "what did you become back there?"
I didn't answer right away.
I didn't know.
But I could sense it—something had changed in the weave of the world. As though the fabric of fate had torn slightly… just enough to make room for something that was never meant to exist.
---
Far from us, in the Hollowed Wastes…
Seven thrones carved of obsidian floated in a void of molten stone. Upon each sat a figure cloaked in shadow, faces hidden behind masks of bone, flame, or voidsteel. The Obsidian Court—ancient, cursed, and bound to the prophecy of the Last Flame.
The Watcher stood before them, his face unreadable, eyes aglow with crimson runes.
"The Twin Flame Trial has concluded," he said.
A woman in crimson silk hissed. "And the Ashborn failed to destroy him?"
"He didn't fail," the Watcher replied. "He merged."
Whispers, sharp as blades, echoed through the Court.
Another member—a towering knight encased in black flame—slammed a gauntlet down. "Then the Prophecy has been shattered."
"No," the Watcher corrected. "It has evolved."
The High Judge rose. "And what of the vessel?"
"He is no longer just the Last Dragon Egg," the Watcher said. "He is the Ashborne King."
They fell silent.
Then the oldest among them—an entity wrapped in charred feathers and sorrow—spoke:
"Then the Court must prepare. We either crown him…"
"Or kill him," the crimson woman finished.
---
Back in the mountains…
As Kaela and I descended toward the valley, a new problem awaited.
Smoke curled into the sky—not from dragonfire, but from torches. Human torches.
Soldiers.
I crouched behind a jagged rock with Kaela, peering down at a patrol of iron-armored knights marching beneath red banners.
"The Flamebringers," Kaela whispered.
"They don't look friendly."
"They won't be. Their order was founded to hunt dragons, Darian. To bind them. Kill them."
My claws flexed.
A strange new warmth stirred in my chest. The merged soul. The Ashborn's instincts. It urged me to fight, to burn them all. But I pushed it down.
We couldn't start a war. Not yet.
"Let's move around—"
But Kaela grabbed my arm.
"You need to see this."
She pointed higher up the valley wall. At first, I thought it was just more rocks.
But then I realized—
They were bones.
Enormous bones. A skeleton sprawled across the cliff, half-buried in stone. A dragon's skull, shattered. Burn marks scarred the ribcage.
"The last of the elder dragons," Kaela murmured. "Killed by the Flamebringers. That's why the eggs stopped hatching."
And suddenly, it made sense.
My soul wasn't just reborn.
It was called back.
Summoned to finish what the elder dragons never could.
---
That night…
We camped beneath a crumbling statue—an old, forgotten monument of a dragon god whose name was lost to time.
I stared into the fire while Kaela slept, curled up in her cloak.
> [Status Update]
Class: Flame Incarnate – Tier I Ascended
Soul Merge: 87% Stability
Skill Gained: [Obsidian Heart] – Immune to flame-based soul corruption
Quest Received: "Claim the Crown of Cinders"
Objective: Reach the Ashspire, Seat of the Obsidian Court
Claim the crown…
That wasn't a request.
It was a challenge.
Suddenly, a whisper drifted through the night wind—gentle, ancient, familiar.
"Darian..."
I turned. A figure stood at the edge of the firelight. Not a monster. Not a man.
But a woman.
Pale skin. Silver eyes. Hair like moonlit ash.
And wings. Enormous, leathery wings trailing embers.
I stood slowly. "Who are you?"
She smiled faintly. "The world called you back. But I was the one who opened the gate."
"Why?"
"Because you're the only one left who can rewrite the fate of flame."
She stepped closer.
"I am Velira. The first fireborn. And I have waited lifetimes to find you."
---
Elsewhere…
In the deepest halls of the Ashspire, the Obsidian Court convened in silence.
A crown sat upon a floating pillar of flame. It pulsed once—then again.
Reacting.
Awakening.
The Ashborne King had returned.
And the world would burn or bow.
The fire crackled softly between us.
Velira sat across from me, her silver eyes reflecting the embers, calm and ancient. Her presence was unnerving—not threatening, but too still. Like a storm deciding whether to sleep or strike.
Kaela remained asleep nearby, unaware of the ghostly visitor sharing our camp.
"I've heard nothing of you before," I said. "If you're the First Fireborn, where have you been all this time?"
Velira smiled faintly, brushing ash-colored hair from her brow. "Dead," she said simply. "But death is a thread, not a wall, for those of us born in flame."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're a soul echo?"
"A memory made flesh. Bound to the fire. I burned too brightly to pass beyond. Just like you will, eventually—unless you choose another path."
She reached into the flames and pulled out a shard of molten glass. Within it danced a flicker of red light—alive, struggling.
"Do you know what this is?"
I stared.
"…a soul fragment?"
She nodded. "The last spark of your predecessor. The one who wore the Crown of Cinders before you."
I inhaled sharply.
"There was another Ashborne King?"
Velira's voice dropped low. "There were many. Some crowned by the Court. Some by chaos. But none have survived the Judgment."
"The Judgment?"
She turned her gaze skyward, toward the blackened stars.
"When the Ashspire awakens, the sky burns. The gods—those who dwell beyond the Rift—send their emissaries to test the flameborn. If they find you lacking, they will unmake you."
"Why me?" I asked, clenching my fists. "Why bring me back for this?"
Velira leaned closer. The fire dimmed.
"Because you were the last egg."
Her words held the weight of eternity.
"The dragons are gone. Their magic is scattered. Their enemies are too many, too strong. The Flamebringers, the Courts, the Chain of Bone. The world forgot the fire."
She touched my chest.
"But you are remembering it."
And in that moment, something stirred inside me—a heat, deeper than any before. A second heartbeat. The Ashborn's soul pulsed with it.
A memory not my own flashed before me:
> A great city of obsidian towers, devoured by lightning.
A black dragon screaming in pain as golden spears pierced its wings.
A silver-haired child, barely alive, cradling a cracked egg with both arms—me.
And above it all, a throne of flame… empty.
I staggered back.
Velira nodded solemnly. "The Court never meant for you to survive. But you did. Because I hid you. Reincarnated you. And now, the world is waking."
---
Morning came cold.
Kaela blinked awake and jumped when she saw Velira standing by the edge of the cliff.
"Who—?"
"She's… an old soul," I said quickly.
Velira turned, smiling gently. "And you're the guide."
Kaela stiffened. "Guide?"
Velira walked over and gently placed a hand on Kaela's shoulder. "Your family was once bonded to the Emberline. Ancient dragonfire in human form. You carry that spark still."
Kaela frowned. "That's not possible. My family were just healers."
Velira shook her head. "They were Wardens. Caretakers of dragonkind. Broken by the Flamebringers centuries ago."
Kaela looked stunned, unsure how to respond.
Velira turned to me.
"You must reach the Ashspire before the Equinox Moon. The Rift will open. The gods will see you. And they will test your claim."
"Test how?" I asked.
But Velira was already fading.
"Not in fire…"
She whispered.
"…but in memory."
And then she vanished—her form scattering into cinders on the wind.
---
Later that day…
We traveled fast, avoiding patrols, following a forgotten path marked by dragon glyphs. The closer we drew to the edge of the Flamebringers' territory, the more I felt the Ashborn inside me pressing forward, as if drawn toward something familiar.
By nightfall, we reached a cliffside overlooking a valley cloaked in red mist.
Kaela gasped.
Nestled between the cliffs was a city—floating—built into the bones of a colossal dragon.
Massive arches formed from rib bones. Towers grown from twisted vertebrae. Lava rivers glowing between the streets.
"The Ruins of Ral'Tir," Kaela whispered. "The Ashborne's last sanctuary…"
As we stepped onto the narrow bridge leading into the city, a deep growl echoed from within.
A pair of massive eyes opened in the dark.
A guardian. One that hadn't forgotten what I was.