Chapter 8: Fire in the Blood

The forest burned around us—not with flames, but with a heat that seemed to rise from my own blood.

I ran, lungs screaming, the ground trembling under my bare feet.

Nyra ran beside me, gasping, her knife stained with black blood from the beasts we had left behind.

Lirien's amulet, clenched in my hand, pulsed faintly—its white glow now just a flicker against the black veins spreading over my face like a mask of death.

The shattered relic of Dren burned in my pocket like an ember, its purple light calling to something I could no longer ignore.

And in my mind, the Threshold roared—a storm of promises and threats:

"Wrath can smell you, Echo. Run all you want. The throne will find you."

"Arion, left!" Nyra shouted, her voice cutting through the wind.

I dove to the ground just as a spear of ice sliced the air, impaling a tree behind me with a sound like breaking bone.

Three figures stepped from the shadows, clad in blue-scaled armor glinting beneath the moonlight.

Water Kingdom hunters—each of them marked with glowing ice runes that vibrated through the air.

But they weren't alone.

Shadows moved behind them.

Not Ether beasts.

Worse.

Human silhouettes, eyes glowing red, their stench thick with sulfur.

"Ambush," I hissed, my strategist mind already breaking down the terrain.

We were caught in a clearing, dense trees surrounding us, no clear exit.

The hunters blocked the path to Ember Academy.

And those red-eyed shadows were circling.

Nyra raised her knife, wind magic swirling invisibly around her.

"What are those?" she muttered, voice tense. "They're not human."

"I don't know," I growled—but I was lying.

I could feel the Threshold in them.

An echo of the Rift Nobody had torn open.

The Sins.

And Wrath—in that vision—had eyes just like these.

No time to think.

The first hunter raised a hand, and the earth exploded.

Spikes of ice shot from the ground like fangs.

I rolled, the stolen dagger gripped tight, slashing the air to deflect one spike aimed for my chest.

Nyra unleashed a burst of wind, toppling the second hunter—

But the third was faster.

A wave of solid water crashed into us, crushing like a claw.

I fought to breathe, lungs burning—

But the Ether howled within me, begging for release.

"Use me," the Threshold whispered, blade-sharp in my mind. "Or they all die."

The amulet pulsed weakly.

Lirien's voice echoed:

"You are enough."

But I wasn't.

Not without blood.

I let the Ether explode.

The water shattered.

Time slowed.

A violet blast tore through the clearing.

The third hunter screamed—his armor dissolving, his body turned to ash.

But the backlash was agony.

I fell to my knees, blood pouring from my eyes, my nose, my mouth.

Black veins dug deeper, clawing my heart.

Another piece of my soul ripped away.

Nyra reached me, slashing at the last tendrils of water.

"Get up!" she yelled—

But the red-eyed shadows were already moving.

The first one struck her.

Claws tore her shoulder.

She screamed and fell—

But her Air magic exploded in a cyclone, hurling the figure into a tree and snapping it in half.

I rose, staggering, dagger in one hand, amulet in the other.

Three silhouettes circled us, their faces featureless—except for those burning eyes.

"Echo," one hissed, voice echoing in my mind.

"Wrath claims you."

The relic in my pocket pulsed, its glow syncing with their eyes.

I couldn't ignore it.

I pulled it free—its heat seared my fingers.

"What are you?" I growled, voice ragged.

"Servants," another whispered, claws gleaming.

"Of the First Sin."

I didn't wait.

I threw the dagger.

It struck the nearest shadow's chest—

And it burst into ash.

The other two lunged.

One slashed my chest—

I screamed—

But the Ether lashed out on instinct.

A second explosion of violet light.

The second silhouette was incinerated—

But the cost was brutal.

My vision blurred.

Blood streamed down my face.

The black veins now covered my torso, forming a shattered armor of pain.

Nyra fought the last one, her storm magic keeping it at bay.

"Arion! The relic!" she cried, dodging a claw.

"Use it!"

I didn't know how.

But I had no time to doubt.

I clenched it—

Its purple light blinding.

A vision struck:

The obsidian throne.

Blood dripping.

Nyra—dead.

Lirien—fading.

And behind the throne, Wrath.

Now clearly visible:

A warrior wreathed in red fire, eyes glowing with destruction.

"I am the first," he said.

"And you will be mine."

I came back.

The relic blazed in my hand.

I threw it at the final silhouette.

It exploded in violet flame.

The red eyes faded to nothing.

Nyra collapsed beside me, shoulder bleeding, chest heaving.

"What... was that?" she asked, voice trembling.

"I don't know," I said—

But I did.

Wrath wasn't alone.

The Sins were real.

And the relic was a key.

A fragment of the Threshold.

A beacon calling them.

I looked at Nyra—her face pale but defiant.

"We need to reach Ember Academy.

It's the only place left with answers."

She nodded, but then—

The ground trembled.

A new figure stepped forward.

Not a hunter—

A man cloaked in black robes, his face hidden behind a mask of bone.

Purple runes burned across his hands.

The air around him stank of death.

"Arion Vaelis," he said, his voice an echo of the Threshold.

"The Echo has awakened. The Sins have found you."

Nyra raised her blade—

But I stopped her.

This wasn't a fight we could win.

Not yet.

"Run," I whispered, mind calculating.

"Our only chance."

She hesitated.

Then nodded.

We ran—

The forest swallowing us—

The masked man following, his feet never touching the ground.

The amulet pulsed—faint but alive—

And the Threshold laughed:

"The Academy won't save you, Echo. Wrath is only the beginning."

On the horizon, a red light flared—

Like a firestorm waiting to consume us.

The throne was closer.

So were the Sins.

And I—Arion Vaelis—

Knew I was getting closer to becoming the very monster I swore never to be.