CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 69: THE PYROFALL RUINS

The transport to the Pyrofall Ruins was necessarily different from their previous journeys. Instead of the Nexus’s usual elegant vessels, they had to use a specialized craft that looked more like a flying furnace than a passenger vehicle. Its hull was made from materials that could withstand temperatures that would melt steel, and its interior was cooled by a complex system of magical refrigeration that hummed constantly.

"I still think this is madness," Borin said from the observation deck of the Nexus, watching as Evon, Quendor, and Pyros prepared for departure. "No dwarf is meant to be kept away from a good adventure by something as simple as heat."

"This isn’t simple heat," Yulia replied, consulting the atmospheric readings from the Pyrofall region. "The temperature down there averages around eight hundred degrees Celsius. That’s hot enough to melt copper."

Evon adjusted the heat-resistant gear that had been provided for the mission, though he suspected he’d be relying more on Lyria’s fire resistance than any physical protection. Through their bond, he could feel her flames stirring with excitement at the prospect of returning to an environment that matched her elemental nature.

"Finally," Lyria said in his mind, "a place where I don’t have to hold back."

Pyros, the fire elemental who had volunteered to guide them, was in his element quite literally. His form—usually a controlled humanoid shape of living flame—had expanded and brightened until he resembled a walking bonfire. When he spoke, his voice crackled with the sound of burning logs.

"The Pyrofall Ruins were once a great city of the flame-forgers," he explained as their transport began its descent toward the hellish landscape below. "Masters of fire magic who built wonders from molten stone and captured flame. But when the volcanic heart of their realm became too active, they were forced to abandon it."

Through the reinforced viewports, Evon could see their destination taking shape. The landscape below was like something from the deepest levels of perdition—a wasteland of flowing lava rivers, towering volcanic peaks that spewed constant streams of fire into the sky, and ruins of what had once been magnificent architecture now half-melted and twisted by the intense heat.

But the most remarkable feature was the rain.

Instead of water falling from the sky, streams of liquid fire cascaded from the clouds above, creating curtains of flame that danced and flickered as they fell. Where the fire-rain struck the ground, it pooled into lakes of molten energy that glowed like captured stars.

"That’s not natural weather," Quendor observed, his rainbow scales already beginning to shimmer with heat-absorption patterns. "Someone or something is generating that flame-fall."

"The fragment," Evon said, understanding immediately. Through his connection to Yena’s other pieces, he could feel the fourth fragment’s presence somewhere deeper in the ruined landscape. "It’s trying to purify the corruption here, but fire is all it has to work with."

"A noble effort," Pyros crackling, "but fire alone cannot cleanse what has been poisoned by darkness. It only burns hotter and more desperately."

The moment their transport’s doors opened, the heat hit them like a physical wall. Even with all their protections and resistances, the temperature was overwhelming. Evon immediately activated Lyria’s fire resistance, feeling her flames surround him like a protective shell, while also calling on Naia’s immortal water to create a cooling barrier around his core temperature.

Quendor’s dragon physiology adapted almost instantly, his scales shifting to reflective patterns that deflected the worst of the heat while his internal temperature regulation systems compensated for the extreme environment. Pyros, of course, was completely unaffected.

"Stay close," the fire elemental advised. "The creatures here have adapted to temperatures that would kill most beings instantly. They see anything cooler than molten lava as prey."

They had barely taken a dozen steps from their transport when the first attack came. A pack of flame salamanders emerged from what had looked like cooling lava pools, their bodies glowing white-hot as they moved with surprising speed across the superheated ground.

These weren’t the small, harmless creatures that shared their name in cooler climates. These salamanders were the size of horses, with scales that looked like they were carved from ruby and obsidian. Their eyes were pools of liquid fire, and when they opened their mouths to hiss challenges, streams of superheated plasma poured out.

"Now that’s more like it," Evon said, drawing the Blade of Fate. The sword’s surface immediately began to glow as Lyria’s flames flowed through it, turning the weapon into a brand of pure fire.

The lead salamander lunged at him with jaws that could probably bite through steel armor. But Evon was ready, channeling both fire and water through his blade in a combination that shouldn’t have been possible. Where Lyria’s flames met Naia’s immortal water, steam erupted with explosive force, creating a barrier that sent the creature tumbling backward.

Quendor engaged two more salamanders simultaneously, his dragon claws finding purchase on their superheated scales while his own fire-breath matched theirs in a contest of elemental fury. The sight of two flame-breathing creatures locked in combat was both beautiful and terrifying.

Pyros took a more direct approach, simply expanding his form until he was larger than any of the salamanders and then wrestling them into submission through sheer elemental dominance.

"Submit to the greater flame," he commanded, and surprisingly, they did.

"They recognize hierarchy," Pyros explained as the remaining salamanders backed away. "In the fire realms, the hottest flame rules."

Their path led them through a landscape that constantly shifted between solid ground and flowing lava. Ancient roads, built by the flame-forgers millennia ago, still provided some structure to navigate by, but many sections had been destroyed or transformed by the endless rain of fire from above.

"Those are flame eagles," Quendor said, pointing to shapes circling in the fire-rain high above. The creatures looked like enormous birds of prey, but their feathers were made of living flame and their wingspans cast shadows of dancing fire on the ground below.

"They’re beautiful," Evon said, watching as one of the eagles dove through a particularly dense curtain of falling fire, its form becoming brighter and more defined as it absorbed the energy.

"And territorial," Pyros warned. "They consider anything that moves through their sky to be an intruder."

As if summoned by his words, three of the flame eagles descended toward them, their cries echoing across the volcanic landscape like the roar of blast furnaces. But instead of the aggressive attack Evon expected, they seemed more curious than hostile.

"They can sense Lyria’s flames," Naia observed in his mind. "They’re trying to understand what you are."

Evon made a decision that probably wasn’t tactically sound but felt right. He raised the Blade of Fate and allowed Lyria’s fire to blaze brighter, creating patterns in the air that mimicked the eagles’ own flame-signatures.

The response was immediate and positive. The lead eagle landed on a nearby outcropping and tilted its head, studying Evon with eyes like burning coals. Then it spread its wings and took flight again, but instead of leaving, it began to circle overhead in what was clearly a protective pattern.

"They’re escorting us," Quendor said with surprise. "Fire creatures can be surprisingly loyal once they accept you as part of their element."

The volcanic trail led them deeper into the ruins of the flame-forger city. Here, the architecture became more impressive and more dangerous. Buildings that had been designed to channel and focus flame energy still functioned, creating towers of controlled fire that reached toward the perpetually burning sky.

But they also encountered more dangerous creatures. Magma wolves—creatures that looked like they had been carved from volcanic rock but moved with liquid grace—prowled through the ruins in packs. Their claws were made of solidified lava that could slice through stone, and their wide, bat-like wings allowed them to glide between the taller structures.

"Now those look unfriendly," Evon commented as a pack of six magma wolves surrounded them on a plaza that had once been the city’s central marketplace.

"Very unfriendly," Quendor agreed, flames beginning to gather around his muzzle. "Magma wolves hunt in packs and they’re smart enough to use tactics."

The wolves attacked in coordinated waves, using their wing-gliding ability to come at them from multiple directions and elevations simultaneously. Evon found himself in the middle of a three-dimensional battle, deflecting claw strikes from above while parrying attacks from ground level.

His combination of fire and water continued to serve him well. Where traditional tactics would have called for matching fire with fire, Evon used Naia’s glacier techniques to create sudden temperature differentials that caused the wolves’ molten claws to crack and shatter. At the same time, Lyria’s flames prevented him from being overwhelmed by the pack’s heat-based attacks.

Quendor fought with the elegant brutality of a creature perfectly adapted to this environment. His claws found weak points in the wolves’ rocky hide, while his fire-breath created thermals that disrupted their gliding attacks. When two wolves tried to coordinate an attack on his flanks, he simply grabbed one in each forepaw and used them as clubs against their packmates.

Pyros had adopted a different strategy entirely. Instead of fighting the magma wolves, he began to communicate with them through complex patterns of flame and heat. What had started as a battle gradually transformed into a negotiation.

"What’s he doing?" Evon asked between sword strikes.

"Establishing dominance through elemental discourse," Quendor replied, breathing a stream of fire that forced three wolves to retreat. "It’s a fire-realm tradition. Instead of fighting to the death, you prove your superiority through displays of power and control."

The negotiation worked. One by one, the magma wolves backed down, recognizing Pyros as a superior flame entity. They didn’t become friendly, exactly, but they stopped attacking and melted back into the ruins to find easier prey.

### The Golem Gardens

The deepest part of the ruined city was dominated by what Pyros called the Golem Gardens—a complex of courtyards where the flame-forgers had once created their greatest works. Massive humanoid figures made from various types of volcanic rock stood in neat rows, their surfaces carved with intricate runes that still glowed with residual magic.

"Are they active?" Evon asked, studying the nearest golem. It stood three meters tall and looked like it had been carved from black obsidian, with veins of lava running through its body like a circulatory system.

"Some of them," Pyros replied. "The flame-forgers created them as guardians and workers. When the city was abandoned, most were left in dormant states, but the arrival of the Burning Seed has been awakening them."

Several of the golems began to stir. Their obsidian eyes flared to life, and the lava veins in their bodies began to pulse with increasing intensity. One by one, they turned their massive heads toward the intruders.

"I don’t think they’re happy to see us," Quendor observed as the nearest golem took a thundering step in their direction.

"The flame-forgers programmed them to protect the city’s treasures," Pyros explained, his form flaring brighter as he prepared for combat. "After awakening by the Burning Seed, they probably consider it to be the ultimate treasure."

The battle that followed was unlike any of their previous encounters. Magma golems fought with the methodical precision of constructed beings, but they were also surprisingly adaptable. They could reshape their bodies to some degree, extending their arms into whips of molten rock or transforming their hands into various weapon configurations.

Evon found that his fire-and-water combination was particularly effective against them. The rapid temperature changes caused stress fractures in their rocky bodies, while Lyria’s flames prevented them from simply overwhelming him with heat-based attacks.

But there were dozens of them, and they kept coming. As they cleared each garden courtyard, more golems activated, drawn by the sounds of battle and the presence of intruders in their domain.

"We need to keep moving," Pyros said after they had defeated the fourth wave of guardians. "The Wyvern Mountains are ahead, and that’s where the real challenges begin."

Evon looked toward the towering peaks that rose from the heart of the ruined city, their slopes covered in caves that glowed with inner fire. Somewhere up there, Yena’s fourth fragment was waiting, along with whatever relic piece his Eyes of Fate would inevitably reveal.

"Right," he said, checking the edge on his blade. "Let’s go wake up some wyverns."

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