Chapter 5 Part 1 – Smoke on the Wind
The winds that rolled down from Ythara's Reach were hot—smoke-laced, smelling of burned wheat and old incense. Velrona felt it through Erlin's borrowed senses, a wave of heat that spoke of staged power and performative death.
They approached the border ridge at dusk. Beneath a blood-red sky, jagged stones dotted the ground like broken teeth—each carved into a silent face. They called them Stone Witnesses, and they lined the path like sentries.
Erlin paused, voice tight.
These are… people?
Memorials, Velrona corrected. To those who failed the trial.
Raea pulled her cloak closer. "They whisper."
Velrona scanned the stones. Each face was unique—men, women, children, eyes open in silent agony. One's mouth parted as if mid-scream. The corners of their carved mouths weathered but cruel.
Are they alive? Erlin asked.
Velrona moved forward, hand brushing over the first face. Carved lines burned into soft stone.
She spoke aloud: "I am Velrona Azaeth, mother to flame and bone."
The witness's mouth trembled. A cracked whisper echoed: "Mother… kill…"
Velrona let the word hang.
System note: Triggered emotional echo.
She stepped to the next.
"I am the one who ordered death-writ."
Another tremor: "Evil… arson…"
Her pulse sharpened.
"These faces remember."
How often can tapestry replay ground? Erlin asked softly.
As long as truth stays broken.
They pressed forward. Each face offered a whispered accusation or plea—"Remember me"… "I burned"… "They tricked us."
Velrona didn't flinch. She faced each echo.
She realized: this was Ythara's border—built as spiritual intimidation.
But by walking into it, she reclaimed their memory.
They reached the usewartz gate—a carved hinge of stone set within two monoliths. One bone-white, one blackened by flame.
A lone guard stood between them: a robed figure holding a censer, smoke coiling above her head like a halo.
She looked at Velrona with unreadable eyes.
"Name yourself."
Velrona aligned her posture—firm but not boastful.
"Velrona Azaeth."
The guard hesitated, then lifted the censer and let smoke drift across Velrona's body. The smoke hissed, then settled. She inhaled it.
"Title."
"Saint of the Obsidian Veil."
The guard's censer flame flickered violently—and then died.
System note: Gatekeeper reaction – medium alarm.
The guard stepped aside.
We're inside, Erlin whispered.
Velrona murmured, "Let their silence serve me."
They passed through the hinge and entered the Ember Road—the first paved path of charstone, lined by flame-barricades. Morning embers burned at random intervals, revealing murals of veiled figures, fire, and death-writ scrolls.
Raea walked ahead, trembling.
An echo whispered in her mind: "I carry your voice."
She stopped, staring at a mural of Velrona standing before a massive pyre.
She sees me, Raea whispered to Erlin.
Don't speak. Velrona's gentle thought touched both of them.
They continued without distraction, nearing the ashfield.
At the ashfield's edge, burnt pilings stood—remnants of those "unworthy pilgrims" Hessa's followers had incinerated. Bones lay in the ash, white against heat-dark soil.
Raea stopped again, her gaze distant.
Velrona crouched beside her.
What are you seeing? she asked softly.
The girl's eyes fluttered.
I… see you. Your hands… touching the flame gently. Whispering. Then: "walk beside, not behind."
Velrona looked inward—Erlin's mind racing with implications.
They stayed a moment.
Velrona whispered, "That's the unspoken truth—the choice I always feared."
Raea blinked back tears.
Velrona stood, offering her hand. They moved forward.
Sunlight broke on pale stone ahead: the Trial Pit, where pilgrims once walked the flame. A circular trench lined with burning rock.
A group of patrol—six armoured acolytes—blocked the entrance, weapons lowered. Their leader stepped forward: a slender woman, ash markings across her cheek, steel in her gaze.
That's Hessa, Erlin breathed.
Velrona met her stare and kept walking.
You know her?
I do.
They halted fifty feet away.
Hessa's eyes widened—then narrowed. Recognition stirred in them.
"Mother of ash," she said softly.
Velrona spoke deliberately. "Hessa."
There was a flicker—relief, calculation, something like hope.
System note: Recognition triggered – disciple proximity.
Hessa looked away briefly, surveying Raea and Erlin.
"You walk with the trial-ghost," she said.
"I walk with survivors," Velrona replied.
Hessa studied the Stone Witnesses back toward the gate—silenced now. She lifted her chin.
"You're called Flicker-Saint now."
Velrona bristled, but allowed the title.
What came next would light the war.