Ash in the Ranks
The dawn was still a red smear on the horizon when chaos struck.
A blast echoed through the Emberheart training ground—walls cracked, smoke poured skyward. Disciples scrambled from their barracks as fire alarms blared across the mountain.
Kai arrived moments later, Linya by his side, both already drawing flame sigils into their palms.
"Who did this?" Kai barked.
One of the Ashspire disciples—Tao Ren, a sharp-eyed wind cultivator—rushed to him, blood on his cheek.
"It was someone inside. They knew our patrol rotations… our warding array codes."
Kai froze.
"A traitor."
They scoured the wreckage of the outer armory. Nothing was stolen—but the Sealfire Scrolls, forbidden scripts locked for centuries, had been exposed.
Someone had broken in.
And left behind a single emblem:
A phoenix, split in two—one wing scorched black.
The Cinder Pact's mark.
Later, in the Ashspire enclave, Kai stood before the gathered members.
His voice was calm—but the air pulsed with restrained fury.
"Someone here passed information to Vaelorn's faction. You didn't just endanger the sect—you endangered us. The ones fighting to save it."
A hush fell.
Then a movement at the back—one disciple stepped forward.
Juno.
A talented flameforger, once fiercely loyal.
"You don't understand," she said.
"Vaelorn doesn't want war. He wants to rebuild. To tear down the rot—like you do."
Kai's heart sank.
"Then why destroy our chance at unity?"
"Because you're still trying to fix a broken system. He wants to replace it."
Her eyes gleamed.
"And maybe he's right."
Linya stepped beside Kai.
"So you chose ash over fire."
Juno didn't flinch.
"I chose truth."
She turned and walked away—no resistance, no fight.
Just silence.
Kai didn't stop her.
"Let her go," he said.
"The lines are drawing themselves."
That night, Kai returned to the Flame Shrine.
This time, he didn't call Vaelorn.
He just lit a small fire—and let it burn.
"If war is coming," he whispered, "then I'll carry the flame that remembers both wings."