Chapter 18
The Stormspire Isles were not marked on any map.
Because maps feared them.
They floated in the northern skies above the cursed sea called Thal's Maw—a sea that did not flow but spiraled, spinning endlessly around a dark hole that consumed mana, light, and sometimes, sound.
To reach it, one had to cross the Bridge of Hollow Currents—a living bridge made of ghostwater and bone coral. It was always wet, even in dry air, and whispered secrets in the tongue of drowned sailors.
Nezutsu walked it first.
With each step, his violet aura flickered—as if the sea below resented his flame.
Velgrim hated it. "This place feels like it knows me... and hates me anyway."
Kaelith drew her blade. "This sea was one of the first things the Ash Sovereign tried to burn."
"And failed?" Nezutsu asked.
"No," she said grimly. "He succeeded. That's why it looks like this."
The Isles That Float
At the heart of Thal's Maw, five black isles hovered in the air, suspended by twisted, glowing chains of anti-gravity runes anchored deep into the ocean spiral. The sky here was not blue—it was grey fire, churning slowly like lava frozen in storm form.
The isles were shaped like broken fangs—sharp, uneven, and each larger than a city. In their center stood the Spire, a needle-thin tower with a flame spinning upside down at its top.
"That's the Stormspire," Kaelith whispered. "It holds the next fragment."
"The Emberbearer?" Nezutsu asked.
"No," she corrected him. "The one who stole it."
The Traitor Flame
In the ancient war, one of the Emberbearers had defied the Ash Sovereign.
Instead of protecting his fragment of divine flame, he devoured it—burning away his name, face, and soul to become a living inferno.
He became known only as:
The Flame-Eater.
He now ruled the Stormspire Isles, feeding on the cursed mana of the sea, using it to grow stronger and twist the flames of old.
"He's no longer human," Kaelith warned. "And worse—he'll recognize you, Nezutsu. You're the shard he was meant to guard."
"Then let him see me," Nezutsu replied, "and let him remember what he failed to do."
The Spire's Challenge
As they reached the base of the tower, a voice echoed from within the black stone walls. It wasn't spoken in a language. It was heat, vibrating directly into their bones.
"The Violet Flame returns. But you are unshaped. Unforged. Leave now, or burn."
Nezutsu stepped forward. The tower split open, revealing a spiral staircase made of molten glass.
Velgrim muttered, "Of course. A flaming death spiral. Just once, I'd like a cursed artifact guarded by puppies."
Ascent of Ash
Each step up the Stormspire was heavier than the last. The air thickened with every floor. Memories bled from the walls—moments from Nezutsu's past, twisted into nightmares.
He saw his childhood in reverse.
He saw his parents… burning.
He saw himself—not as a boy—but as a sword. Forged in divine heat, screaming as his soul was hammered into silence.
Kaelith grabbed his hand.
"It's not real."
"It is," he said. "But it's old. I'm not him anymore."
And with that, the final door opened.
The Flame-Eater
At the top of the tower stood a creature made of charred bone and endless fire. Its face was a skull wrapped in living cinders. Its voice was a furnace sigh.
"You have come to take what I have kept. But you do not command it."
"I am the Final Seal," Nezutsu said, stepping forward. "You were meant to protect me."
"I was meant to serve the flame. But the flame betrayed me. As it will betray you."
With a roar, the Flame-Eater unleashed a column of searing white fire.
Nezutsu didn't dodge.
He caught it.
And returned it, twice as strong.
The room exploded in light.
Flames That Speak
The battle was unlike anything Velgrim or Kaelith had ever seen. The two fire-wielders didn't move like warriors—they moved like storms, like two pieces of the same broken sun, trying to burn the other away.
Each flame Nezutsu used was not just heat—it was memory.
Every time he struck, he saw pieces of the Flame-Eater's past.
He had been a boy once. A loyal one. Chosen to carry the Amber Fragment. He had watched his family die, watched the Sovereign fall, and believed the only way to protect the flame was to consume it.
He hadn't turned into a monster.
He had chosen to become one.
"You feared being forgotten," Nezutsu whispered.
"I still do."
"Then let me remember for you."
And with that, Nezutsu did not destroy him.
He forgave him.
The fire shrank. The cinders collapsed.
And all that was left… was an amber crystal, glowing faintly with regret.
The Second Flame
Nezutsu reached out and touched it.
The moment his fingers closed around the crystal—
A second seal on his chest glowed.
A new rune joined the violet flame.
It wasn't just power.
It was understanding.
He felt the Amber Flame whisper to him—its nature was willpower. It burned stronger the more hopeless the cause. It didn't ignite from fuel.
It ignited from defiance.
Velgrim clapped slowly. "You keep doing stuff like this and I'm going to start charging you to hang out."
Kaelith smiled. "Two down. Five to go."
In the Shadows… They Watch
Far away, beyond mortal eyes, in a realm of mirrors and ink, the Council watched.
The old man in the crimson robe hissed.
"He has the Amber Flame now."
"We must send a Fragment."
"Which one?" asked the blind girl in feathers.
"Send the Pale Heir."
"But he cannot be controlled."
"Then send him anyway."
And from a prison beneath time itself, something opened one glassy eye and grinned.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]