Road of Ash and Oaths

The south road of the mountain was quiet—unusually quiet.

Leaves snapped in odd patterns, and the smell of burn clung on the air even though it was surrounded by a mist which shrouded the path in front of them. Ren led the way, Sera and Kaela flanking him on either side, while Kairo and Ace trailed behind.

With each step was a growing feeling of heaviness.

"Sure this Oracle temple even exists?" Kaela snarled, her hand hovering near the hilt of her sword.

Kairo was not going to look up from his runes. "Old maps indicated it near the valley beyond Ashvale. Few living have reached it. Even fewer returned."

"Comforting," Sera snapped.

Ren said nothing. His brain whirled. The news of Ace's real nature. The reality of the three ships. And the writhing horror in the belly of his soul—each time he applied the flame, he was edging closer to Ashborn's puppeteer.

He didn't even know he had his fists clutched that hard until Sera set her hand on his arm.

"Hey. Are you alright?"

Ren staggered. "No. But I'm still going. That has to be between something.".

She smiled faintly. "It does."

From behind them, Ace's voice drifted forward. "The silence isn't natural. Something's watching us."

Kaela spun, daggers already in hand. "I was hoping we'd get through one day without being stalked."

Kairo murmured an incantation, his eyes glowing faint gold. "There are whispers in the trees. Traces of spirit magic. Not Ashborn's. but old. Forgotten."

"Maybe the Oracles are testing us," Sera suggested.

"Or warning us," Ace replied.

The way dipped down into a sunken glade, clogged and half-swallowed by thorny vines. In its center was a half-destroyed archway smeared in black thorns and moss.

Kairo stopped. "This is it."

Ren moved closer, running his fingers over the stone. It vibrated with a soft heat.

"It looks dead," said Kaela.

"It's sleeping," said Kairo. "Opens only to blood and fire."

Ren winced. "Of course it does.".

He fell to one knee and placed his hand on the stone, calling a surge of blue fire. It leapt across his skin, blazing with barely restrained anger. A cut appeared in the center of his palm, fire and blood mingling. The archway began to move, runes flashing as ancient characters stirred along its length.

The air was torn apart by a rumbling that was like thunder.

The earth shook.

And the arch was a gate, opening to a glinting path of white stone into darkness.

"We go together," Ren said.

They stepped inside.

Within lay a world in between worlds.

The path hung in a void, with floating islands of memory surrounding it. Images glimmered in the air—moments from Ren's past, from Ace's training, from forgotten battles waged in fire and shadow.

It's a river of memory," Kairo breathed. "The Oracles hold all truth in folds of time."

A summons came from the void.

"One vessel lost. One vessel bound. One vessel hidden."

Three came before them—wound in fire, darkness, and light.

The one in the middle spoke again.

"Third, you desire. But do you desire her for salvation. or power?"

Ren moved forward, determined. "I must put a stop to Ashborn. No matter the cost."

"Even if it destroys what little soul is left to you?"

Ren stumbled.

"I don't wish to be him. But I can't leave either."

The figures' aura shimmied.

"Then go and seek her out. But be warned—she does not sleep. She wanders among men. And she burns brighter than either of you."

The vision broke apart.

They landed on stone—hard, solid this time. They were no longer in the void. Before them stood a temple cut into the face of a cliff, overgrown but resonating with magic.

Standing before him was an old man with moon-pale eyes and a dark-wood staff.

"You've opened the Seer's Gate," he said. "The Oracles have waited centuries for this."

Ren took a step forward, his mind still spinning. "Do you know where the third vessel is?"

The Oracle looked at him. "I know who she is. Her name is Liora. And she is being hunted."

Sera stiffened. "By Ashborn?"

"No," said the Oracle. "By herself."

The band followed the Oracle into the temple. Candles lit at their sides as they moved, illustrating murals of gods halved—creation and destruction, love and anger. In the middle, a picture of a girl surrounded by red fires, her eyes empty with anger.

"She was strongest," the Oracle stated. "Too strong. She resisted Ashborn's control early and escaped. But the fire within her became corruption. She started hearing the voices—of those burned by her own hand. Villagers, soldiers, innocents."

Ren swallowed. "She's unpredictable."

"She is alone," the Oracle corrected. "And out of her time."

Kaela folded her arms. "Where is she, then?"

The Oracle whirled.

"North. The Ardenthollow. They speak of a woman who burns who sings in shadows. If you'll go to seek her…. You'll have to depart tonight."

As they were about to leave, Ren stood outside the temple, looking up at the mural.

Sera appeared at his side. "You're afraid that you will become just like her."

"I'm afraid I already have."

She intertwined her hands with his. "Then let me remind you what you are. Every time that you forget."