Rain tapped against the scorched earth as Naku Hizusuki stared into the dying embers of their campfire. Roshi sat nearby, her hands folded in prayer, a faint glow weaving from her fingertips as she silently mended the wound on Naku's shoulder—one earned from their clash with the Oni of the Crimson Pines.
The path ahead led through the Ashen Valley, a cursed land once vibrant with life, now twisted by spiritual rot. It was said the flame spirits there whispered only to those who had lost everything. Naku, with his memories of blood-stained childhood and burning homes, qualified far too easily.
"You should rest," Roshi whispered, not looking up.
"I don't sleep much these days," Naku replied. "Not since we crossed the Eastern Cliff."
She paused. "Is it because of him? The man with the serpent tattoos?"
Naku's eyes narrowed. "Simo Roy."
That name sat on the edge of his blade, waiting to be spoken into finality. Every time it passed his lips, it sounded like a vow.
As they packed and set out again, the trees of the Ashen Valley welcomed them with windless silence. The world dimmed, as if twilight had settled hours early, and the sky above turned the color of coal-dust.
A flicker of orange light danced among the trees.
"Did you see that?" Roshi asked, gripping the thread beads on her sash.
Naku nodded, his hand already on the hilt of his blade. "Flame Spirits."
They followed the glow deeper into the valley until it coalesced into a ring of fire hovering above a stone altar. A young woman stood within the circle, eyes ablaze like twin suns. Her voice echoed not from her lips but from the air itself.
"Who dares enter the heart of what was forsaken?"
Roshi stepped forward before Naku could answer. "We seek the Ember Memory—knowledge of what burned this land. Of what still burns him."
The spirit's eyes turned toward Naku.
"You carry the curse of legacy," it said. "A name steeped in vengeance and smoke. To learn, you must burn."
Suddenly, Naku was surrounded by flame. Memories crashed over him—his mother's scream, the slice of Simo Roy's blade, the monk's chant as he knelt beside Naku's fallen body. He fell to his knees, breathing hard.
But the flames did not consume him.
Roshi placed her hand on his shoulder, and a pulse of silvery light expanded from her palm. The fire receded, and the spirit smiled faintly.
"You are not alone. And that will be your greatest strength."
With a final flicker, the spirit dissolved, leaving behind a single ember hovering before Naku. When he touched it, a vision filled his mind—Simo Roy standing in a blood-soaked shrine, speaking to a shadowed figure wearing a mask shaped like a phoenix's skull.
"The legacy," the masked one said, "must be broken before it reignites."
As the vision faded, Naku stood silently.
"Did you see?" Roshi asked softly.
"Yes," he replied. "And now I know where to go next."
Roshi smiled gently. "Then the fire has only just begun."
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End of Chapter 11