The entrance was nothing.
Just a jagged split in the cliffs of Valden's Spine — overgrown with vines and boneflowers that bled silver when crushed.
No guards. No traps. No signs of holiness.
Only a low hum, barely audible, like a whisper breathing through the cracks.
And still, Kaelith flinched when they stepped through it.
> "This is where they buried him?"
"No. This is where they tried to forget him," Elliot said.
They walked into the dark.
---
It was not like other ruins.
There were no statues, no symbols, no offerings. Just smooth black stone, walls that seemed to bend inward, as if the tomb watched them.
The further they descended, the more Elliot's flame curled inside him like a fist.
It didn't flicker with power.
It trembled.
---
They reached the final chamber. Empty.
Just a single, massive stone door with no handle. Inscribed with a language no mortal had ever spoken aloud and lived.
Kaelith stared at the carvings. "I don't recognize it."
"I do," Elliot murmured.
He didn't know how.
But the words slid across his mind like old scars being touched again.
And he whispered:
> "I see. I hear. I know. I become."
The door opened without a sound.
---
Inside was Oloran.
Not sleeping.
Not dead.
Sitting.
At the center of a silent room filled with books written in blood and mirrors that didn't reflect anything real.
He looked… human.
Old. Thin. Smiling.
Wearing a robe of ravens' wings and eyes that blinked sideways.
> "Ah," he said, without moving.
"The flame finally walks in on its own."
---
Kaelith raised her sword. "We're not here for riddles."
Oloran chuckled. "Then you shouldn't have come to the god of them."
His gaze fell on Elliot, sharp now.
> "You came for power. Or answers. Or to break something. Which is it?"
Elliot stepped forward. "All three."
"Good," Oloran whispered, standing. "Because the gods are coming. And only madness speaks louder than faith."
---
Suddenly the room shifted — no movement, but change. Elliot blinked and saw…
Himself on fire, alone in a ruined world.
Kaelith weeping beside a grave that had no name.
Myrren, standing above the corpse of a god.
He staggered.
> "What is this?!"
Oloran touched his shoulder, and the visions stopped.
> "Truth. The kind that burns."
Then he placed a finger against Elliot's heart.
And whispered something.
A Word.
One that made Kaelith's nose bleed just from being near it.
Elliot gasped.
> "What… what did you give me?"
Oloran smiled — wide, cracked, sad.
> "The only weapon left the gods still fear."
"A word that can break any bond. Sever any oath. Even... your own flame."
---
But as they turned to leave, Oloran said one more thing:
> "Tell the sky this:
I remember why it fell."
And this time, so will he.
---