Chapter 13: “The Ashes of Betrayal”

Part 1: The Lie

Stephanie's parents took her to the capital under the guise of a "special shopping trip"—a three-day extravaganza of silk gowns, jeweled hairpins, and enchanted trinkets. She'd always loved the city's glittering boutiques, but this time, unease gnawed at her.

"Why now?" she demanded as their carriage rattled over cobblestones. "You've never cared about my wardrobe before."

Lady Redwyne smiled, her eyes cold. "You're nearly eleven, darling. It's time to start dressing like a proper noble."

Stephanie glared at the silver locket around her mother's neck—a twin to her own bonding charm. Aizen's pendant is warm, she thought, pressing a hand to her chest. He's still at the estate. He's safe.

But when they returned, he was gone.

Part 2: The Ultimatum

The servants avoided her gaze as she stormed through the halls. "Where is he?!" she screamed, her magic frosting the walls.

Lord Redwyne found her in the sunroom, her fists clenched, tears freezing on her cheeks. "Aizen's family came for him," he said, tone clipped. "They were overjoyed to reunite. He left willingly."

"Liar!" Stephanie hurled a vase at his head. It shattered against the wall. "He'd never leave me!"

Her father didn't flinch. "They were attacked by bandits on the road. No survivors."

"You're lying! Show me his body!"

Lady Redwyne stepped forward, holding out a familiar silver key pendant—scorched and smeared with ash. "This was all they found."

Stephanie's world collapsed.

Part 3: The Jungle

Aizen woke to the roar of unseen beasts and the stench of rot. His head throbbed, memories blurred—drugged tea, rough hands, a magic-sealed carriage. Vermis… where's Vermis?

The grimoire lay beside him, its pages damp but intact. "Master, you've been unconscious for 72 hours. Welcome to the Bloodleaf Jungle—a 99.3% mortality rate for unprepared humans. My congratulations."

"Fantastic," Aizen croaked, staggering to his feet. The jungle loomed—a tangle of crimson vines and skeletal trees, their branches clawing at a sickly green sky.

He had no food, no water, and no idea where he was. But Stephanie's pendant still hung around his neck, its faint glow his only comfort.

"Survival suggestion: Find shelter before nightfall. The predators here are… enthusiastic," Vermis said.

Aizen's laugh was hollow. "Lead the way."

Part 4: The Dungeon

The ruins appeared at dusk—a crumbling mausoleum half-swallowed by roots. Inside, glyphs flickered on moss-stained walls, their ancient magic humming in Aizen's bones.

"Warning: Necrotic energy detected. Proceed with caution," Vermis said.

"Too late for that," Aizen muttered, descending into the dark.

The chamber below was a tomb. A skeleton in rotted mage's robes sat slumped on a throne, its bony fingers clutching a fire-blackened mask. On the wall behind it, words were carved in jagged script:

"To the Unwanted Heir—Take my face. Take my flame. Burn your chains."

Aizen reached for the mask.

Part 5: The Inheritance

The moment his fingers brushed the bone-white mask, the skeleton's head snapped up. Fire erupted from its empty eye sockets, coiling around Aizen's arm.

"Master! Your mana!" Vermis shouted.

Aizen screamed as the fire consumed him—not pain, but power. Visions flooded his mind: a scorned prince, exiled and forgotten, who carved his own face away to escape his past. Who turned his rage into a flame that devoured kingdoms.

When the fire faded, the mask clung to Aizen's face like a second skin. The grimoire's pages blazed with new runes.

"Fascinating," Vermis said. "The mask alters your appearance and voice. The fire magic appears to be… sentient."

Aizen stared at his reflection in the grimoire's cover—a stranger with sharp, androgynous features and eyes like smoldering coals.

"Stephanie…" His new voice was deeper, edged with smoke. "I'll find you. But first—"

He turned to the jungle, flames dancing on his palm.

"—I need to survive."