CHAPTER 1534: STORY 1534: BLADES AT DAWN

The night stretched long before the Cinder Gate, its glow searing the horizon in restless pulses. The survivors huddled in wary silence, their shadows quivering in the firelight, as though the land itself waited for a verdict.

Kael sat apart, blade across his knees, eyes fixed on the chains. Every thrum of their heat carried through his chest, echoing the rhythm of something vast and patient beneath. He could almost hear its breath, drawn slow and deep. Waiting.

Behind him, the murmurs began again. Fearful whispers turned to sharp words, then to the ring of steel being unsheathed.

The scarred woman stood tall, her spear planted firmly in the ash. Her voice cut through the tension. “It’s settled. We can’t drag this curse further. End it now, while we still have a chance to turn back.”

A handful of her followers stepped forward, blades drawn. Their eyes burned not with courage, but with desperation. They were cornered animals, and the Ashborn Child was the threat they thought they could kill.

Elara’s flame flared in defiance, though her body shook with exhaustion. She held the child close, its faint ember-glow spilling against her pale face. “Touch it, and I’ll burn you where you stand.”

The scarred woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “And if it burns the world instead? Will you still cling to it, priestess?”

Kael rose, his blade catching the Gate’s glow in jagged light. He stepped between them, his voice low but edged with steel. “No hand touches the child while I draw breath.”

Tension cracked the air. The survivors froze, torn between loyalty and fear, as the scarred woman leveled her spear at Kael’s chest. “Then you’ve chosen your grave.”

The standoff was shattered by a scream.

From the fissures around the Gate crawled fresh horrors—smaller than the guardians, but quicker, forged of ash and ember. Their limbs were spindly yet sharp, their bodies molten silhouettes. They skittered across the stone like insects, hissing as they came.

The survivors panicked, some scattering, others rallying to the scarred woman’s cry. Spears bristled, shields rose, and the first clash rang out as molten claws struck iron.

Kael swung his jagged blade, cleaving through one of the creatures, molten sparks splattering his arm. He gritted his teeth and barked over the chaos: “Save your blades for them! Kill each other and you’ll never leave this place alive!”

Elara pressed the child against her chest, whispering frantic prayers, her flame lashing at the creatures that darted too close. The child whimpered, its ember glow flickering faintly in rhythm with the chains.

The scarred woman drove her spear through one of the ash-spawn, fire hissing from its wound. She spat into the dust and glared at Kael through the melee. “This isn’t over.”

Kael met her eyes, blade dripping molten ichor, the Gate’s heat rising like a furnace at his back.

No, he thought grimly. It was only just beginning.