Ashes of the First Circle

The stairs beneath the mirror led into silence.

Not darkness — that would've been a kindness. Down here, the light was too clear. Too sharp. It had no source, yet it exposed everything — every breath, every scar, every thought they'd rather forget.

Konrad was the first to speak. "How far down are we?"

Maela's voice was quiet. "Farther than maps. Farther than memory."

Alric didn't speak. He was staring at the carvings on the wall — words in the old tongue, etched in long, jagged lines like a scream made script.

He could feel them in his teeth.

The passage ended at a vault.

Its door was not made of stone or metal.

It was made of glass — and inside, suspended mid-air, floated a black ring of obsidian shards, spinning slowly around a pulse of red light.

Maela fell to her knees.

"I remember this," she whispered.

Konrad frowned. "You said you didn't—"

"I lied."

Alric turned. "Why?"

"Because I was afraid. Because if I admitted I remembered, I'd have to face what I did. What we did."

Konrad's voice turned hard. "Then say it."

She looked up at them, eyes glistening.

"We were the ones who shattered the gate."

A long silence followed.

The red light inside the vault pulsed once.

Alric spoke softly. "Why?"

"We thought we were saving the world," Maela said. "We believed the gate led to something that shouldn't exist. We sealed it. Broke the mirror. Hid the shards in bloodlines across the realm."

"And now it's coming back," Konrad said bitterly.

Maela nodded. "Because we didn't destroy it. We just… delayed it."

Alric took a step toward the vault. The glass didn't crack or resist. It simply parted for him.

The shards turned slowly.

And in the reflection of one, he saw a boy — himself — standing over a grave, his hands shaking. He blinked, and the image vanished.

"I need to touch it," he said.

Konrad stepped forward. "That's not wise."

"Wise ended three episodes ago," Alric muttered, and placed his hand on the nearest shard.

The world vanished.

He stood in a hall of stars. The floor was glass. Above him, constellations spun in silent agony.

A figure waited at the center.

Robe of black ash. No face.

"You are close," it said. "Too close to turn back."

Alric's mouth was dry. "What are you?"

"A memory. A mistake. A guardian."

It stepped forward.

"You broke the circle once. Now, you must decide if it should remain broken — or be reforged."

Behind the figure, the stars exploded. A gate appeared — jagged, ancient, pulsing.

"If you open it," the figure said, "you will no longer be yourself."

Alric breathed in slowly.

"I'm not sure I ever was."

He woke to Konrad shaking him.

"Your eyes went white."

Alric staggered back, hand still smoking. "It spoke to me."

"It?"

Maela stepped beside him. "The shard. It remembers everything."

Alric looked at the floating ring. "Then we need to remember too."

Before they could speak further, a tremor shook the chamber.

The vault began to close behind them.

"Someone's sealing the way," Konrad said, sword drawn.

"They know we're here," Maela whispered.

Above, in the Drowned City, fire rained from the sky.

Lady Vael's forces — the Sigiled Ones — descended in silence, faces hidden behind mirrored masks. They moved like ghosts, blades of light in hand, cutting down what was left of the city's edge.

The Whisperer stood at the shore, watching the water boil.

"They'll die down there," he said.

Vael tilted her head. "Or they'll become something worse."

Back in the chamber, Alric stood between the shards.

The pieces began to respond — pulling inward, slowly forming a shape.

Maela gasped. "They're forging the Circle again."

Konrad stepped back. "Then we need to stop it."

"No," Alric said.

They turned to him.

"We finish it."

A blinding pulse erupted from the vault.

All three dropped to the ground.

Visions struck again — only this time, shared. They stood in the same space, watching their past selves — the old Circle — argue in firelight.

Young Maela screaming, "We're not gods!"

Young Alric slamming his fist down. "Then let us not leave our ruin to tyrants!"

Konrad's past self, standing alone.

Walking away.

The vision faded.

And in its place… silence.

Maela broke it. "We made a choice once."

Alric nodded. "Now we make another."

Konrad stepped forward. "Then let's make it together."

The shards flared once.

And fused.

A new ring formed — smaller, darker, pulsing with their blood, their guilt, their truth.

The vault doors collapsed.

The earth above them cracked.

And through it came the last echo of a voice none of them remembered, but all somehow knew:

"You have remembered. Now the world will begin again."

Far above, the false sun shattered.

And the sky bled stars.

TO BE CONTINUED…