The storm rolled over the northern horizon like a living beast—dark, slow, and relentless. Beneath its shadow, the Dread Circle marched. Cloaked in furs, armed with relic-forged weapons, they were war-hardened killers led by a woman no one dared cross.
General Velra rode at the head, her armor glinting under moonlight, her crimson eyes scanning the frostbitten trail ahead. Her mount—a horned tundra wolf—snarled at every step, sensing the magic ahead.
"South," Velra ordered. "To the cradle of flame."
Behind her, a lean figure wearing a bone mask hissed, "The boy must be taken alive. His blood opens the gate."
Velra raised an eyebrow. "And if he resists?"
The masked figure tilted its head. "Then his blood spills all the same."
---
Threadborn Tension
Back at the Temple, the mood was shifting.
Eli's training accelerated under Jericho's brutal guidance. Meditation in the morning, flame-control at midday, sparring by dusk, followed by long hours of absorbing scripture etched into the stone beneath the temple's altar.
Mira walked with him through the quiet corridors one evening.
"You've gotten stronger," she said. "Faster, more focused."
"I have to be," Eli replied. "Whatever woke up out there—it's moving."
"You think it's coming for you?"
Eli hesitated. "I don't know. But I feel like… I've been hunted before."
They paused near the Threadwoven Tree—a sacred relic pulsing with quiet light. Mira laid a hand on its bark. "You were chosen by the Threads, Eli. That makes you dangerous... but also important."
Eli looked at her. "To you?"
She smiled. "To the world."
---
The Arrival of Ash
Cael watched the courtyard from the balcony as a traveler approached—a young woman wrapped in ash-grey robes, her face veiled.
She moved like a ghost through the temple gates, untouched by the guards, as if they barely saw her.
Master Alaryn was waiting. "Ashwalker. We weren't expecting you."
Her voice was soft and cold. "No one ever does."
"Why come now?"
"The Dread Circle moves. Velra seeks the Flamebound. If she finds him before he awakens the third seal... everything ends."
Alaryn turned, troubled. "He's not ready."
The Ashwalker simply replied, "Then we will make him ready."
---
In Dreams of Fire
That night, Eli dreamed of burning towers, of cities swallowed by black flame. In the smoke, he saw a boy—himself—but older, eyes burning with red-gold light, standing alone on a battlefield.
A voice whispered in the darkness: "Power without restraint destroys the one who wields it."
When he awoke, sweat clung to his skin despite the mountain cold.
He found Jericho waiting by the training yard.
"You're late."
"I had a dream."
Jericho raised an eyebrow. "Did it teach you how to control your fire?"
Eli nodded. "No... but it reminded me why I need to."
---
The Dread Circle Moves
In the woods just beyond the Temple's reach, scouts from the outer villages had already begun to vanish. One patrol returned bloodied and broken, whispering about shadow beasts and voices that bled from the trees.
Mira gathered the students. "We need to prepare. The Circle doesn't just kill—they unravel."
The Ashwalker spoke from behind her. "They are closer than you know. I can feel the corruption moving beneath the soil."
Eli stepped forward. "Then let's stop waiting."
Everyone looked at him.
"I'm not running. I'm not hiding. If they want the Flamebound…" He clenched his fists, sparks dancing across his knuckles. "...they'll find someone ready to burn."