The Ashlands were never quiet.
Not truly.
Not since Aedric shattered the Burned Throne.
But tonight, silence fell like a burial shroud.
The winds stopped.
The flame dimmed.
Even the Ashborn stood still.
Because something unnatural had entered their realm.
---
It came with no sound.
No footsteps.
Only the slow chill of divine presence.
A figure, robed in shadows that flickered like dying stars, stepped through the gates of the Crown of Ashes.
Eyes hidden beneath a veil of runes.
Skin cracked like stone.
And from its chest pulsed a sigil — the mark of the Celestial Bastion.
A god's emissary.
A Deathless.
---
🕱 The Trial of the Undying
Ashborn warriors moved to intercept.
The figure raised one hand.
Twelve men collapsed — not with a blow, but with silence. Their blood froze mid-air. Their souls torn free before their bodies hit the ground.
Aedric appeared in a flash of fire, Vyrmath in hand.
"Name yourself," he demanded.
The figure's voice was both echo and whisper.
> "I have no name."
> "Only a purpose."
> "To erase the error your flame has become."
---
⚔️ The Battle Begins
They clashed in a heartbeat.
Aedric struck first — Vyrmath carving through reality, flame trailing in a crescent of burning time.
But the Deathless caught it with bare hands.
The blade screamed.
The flame recoiled.
The Deathless whispered a command — and chains of divine stasis wrapped around Aedric's limbs.
"Your flame is borrowed," it said. "I return it to the void."
---
Aedric's eyes burned brighter.
The glyphs on his skin flared — resisting divine law.
He broke the chains.
In a burst of light, he reappeared behind the Deathless — blade plunged into its back.
The creature fell.
---
But then…
It stood again.
The wound closed.
And it laughed — a sound like sand scraping bone.
> "I do not bleed."
> "I do not break."
> "I only end."
---
🔥 Second Phase: The Flame Remembers
Aedric stepped back.
He whispered to Vyrmath.
The blade pulsed, and a symbol flared along its edge — the name of a past life.
> The Nameless Flame.
A surge of power ignited through Aedric's chest.
He moved again — faster, sharper.
Each strike now burned through time — cutting seconds from the Deathless's motion.
The world warped.
The air screamed.
He struck twelve times.
And the Deathless was driven to its knees.
---
But still… it rose.
Its body crumbled.
But its spirit burned stronger.
"You cannot kill what has no soul," it said.
And that's when Aedric understood.
---
🩸 The True Weakness
The blade could not kill it.
Because this creature was never alive.
It was a memory, a punishment, a law.
It could only be broken by truth.
He closed his eyes.
Reached into the flame.
And whispered a name — not his own, but one that had been buried in the forge.
> "Yurehn."
The Deathless stopped.
The name hit like thunder.
Its body cracked.
> "You… remember."
> "I… was once…"
The flame flared.
And Aedric whispered:
> "Then rest."
He raised Vyrmath one last time.
But this time… the blade did not cut.
It released.
The Deathless's mask cracked.
A human face flickered beneath it.
A tear.
And then…
Silence.
The creature turned to ash.
---
🌓 Aftermath
The Ashborn gathered in silence.
Vorka knelt before Aedric.
"You did not kill it," she said. "You freed it."
He didn't reply.
He looked at the ash blowing in the wind.
And whispered:
> "Even the gods forget what they break."
---
🌙 Lyara Arrives
At the edge of the Ashlands, a sand-scorched horse collapsed.
Lyara stumbled forward, her cloak in tatters, the Eye of Fate on her hand now glowing violet.
She dropped to her knees at the gates of the Ashborn camp.
"I need… to see Aedric…"
The guards hesitated.
Then bowed.
And led her inside.
---
💔 Final Scene: The Name on the Blade
That night, as the moon rose above the black desert, Aedric sat alone.
Vyrmath rested across his knees.
And on its surface, a new name appeared.
Not of an enemy.
But of the soul he freed.
Yurehn — the name of the Deathless.
He touched it gently.
And for the first time since the Trial… he wept.
---