Chapter 10: The Ember Vault
Marcus vanished.
After the emissary's blade had fallen still, he knew it was only the beginning. The kingdoms would not stop. Not for truth. Not for blood. Not even for fire.
So he left.
Guided by visions and whispers in the dragon's eyes, he journeyed north, far beyond the borders of Sapphire, through the abandoned trails of the Old Wilds, and into the forgotten lands where no banner flew and no crown claimed dominion.
There, hidden beneath the frozen peaks of Kareth's Spine, Marcus found what had called to him since the day the egg had cracked.
An ancient vault.
Built before the War of Eight Crowns. Before the rise of Sapphire. Before even the Dominion.
The door was sealed with flame.
Only Veyrion's breath opened it.
Inside, the air was thick with forgotten magic. Stone walls were carved with stories—dragons soaring with kings on their backs, forging empires with fire and wisdom.
In the heart of the vault, he found it:
The Ember Codex.
A book older than language, its pages burning without burning. It spoke not with words, but with memory.
He saw it all.
The ancient bond between man and dragon.
The betrayal that shattered their trust.
The prophecy of the Last Ember—born of royal fire but raised in ash. One who would either reunite the flame… or destroy what remained of it.
Marcus trained in silence.
By day, he honed his swordplay on cliff edges and mountain stone. By night, he trained Veyrion—teaching him flight, restraint, and the old commands whispered from the Codex.
Weeks turned into months.
And as Veyrion grew, so did Marcus.
His power deepened. His senses sharpened. Flame bent to his will. Visions came more frequently. And with them, names he did not know but somehow remembered.
But the world did not forget him.
Ravens still flew. Eyes searched the woods and whispers moved through the kingdoms like poison.
And King Levi Daemon had begun to tighten his noose.
"My son runs from me," he said to his council. "But he cannot run forever."
He looked to his generals.
"When he returns… he will return with fire. And the world must be ready."
—
But high in the mountains, unaware of his father's growing reach, Marcus stood at the edge of the cliff beside his dragon, watching the stars blaze.
He was no longer a farmer.
No longer a boy.
He was Flamebound.
The Last Ember.
And the time of hiding was nearly over.