The Sanctum of Embers was silent, save for the sound of molten streams flowing gently around the obsidian stones. It pulsed with ancient magic—the kind Kael had only felt in dreams.
Before him stood three men, each bearing features both familiar and foreign: the curve of a jaw like his, a certain fire behind the eyes, the same mark of ruin burned faintly across the chest.
The eldest, with ash-grey skin and blazing orange irises, stepped closer.
"I am Malric," he said, voice deep and even. "First son of Ashar. Your brother."
Beside him, a younger man with violet-black horns nodded. "I'm Dareth. The second. We never thought you'd survived the Fall."
"And I'm Soren," said the third, the quietest, with golden eyes and a nervous smile. "The youngest. Until now, I suppose."
Kael stared at them—his brothers. For so long he had imagined being alone in his blood. But now he felt the truth, deep in his bones.
The fire knew its kin.
But just as his heart stirred with cautious hope, Malric added:
"You shouldn't have come."
Seraphine stepped protectively beside Kael. "He's your brother. Why wouldn't he come?"
Malric turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Because Ashar is watching. And where Kael walks, destruction follows."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I didn't come to bring war. I came for answers. About our family. About the Mirror. About why I was left behind."
Soren flinched at the bitterness in Kael's voice, but Dareth stepped forward. "You weren't left. You were hidden. Ashar ordered your execution when you were barely a year old. Veyla fled with you. We thought she succeeded in… hiding you forever."
Kael's blood ran cold. "He tried to kill me?"
"He feared you," said Malric. "Because you were born not just of his flame—but of a different kind of fire. One we didn't understand."
"Queen Veyla's fire," Seraphine whispered.
"Not werewolf magic," Malric said. "Something older."
They exchanged a look—and Kael knew something had been kept from him still.
In the Sanctum's inner chambers, Kael stood before an ancient brazier of black flame. It showed not reflections, but memories.
When he touched it, the flame roared.
Visions flared: his mother, Veyla, kneeling in blood. A younger Ashar screaming. And then—her whisper, to a circle of fire:
"I bind the Mirror to his soul. If he ever breaks, the world will burn with him."
Seraphine gripped his hand.
"She didn't just hide you… she sealed your power."
But Malric's face had gone pale. "You don't understand. If the Mirror is breaking—it means the seal is weakening."
Kael stared at the flame.
"Then what happens when it breaks completely?"
Malric hesitated. "You become what Ashar always feared."
That night, as Kael and Seraphine rested in a quiet chamber carved into volcanic stone, Soren slipped inside with shaking hands.
"You need to leave," he whispered.
Kael sat up sharply. "What?"
"Dareth's gone behind Malric's back. He's summoned Ashar."
The words dropped like iron.
"What did you just say?" Kael demanded, fire sparking to his fingertips.
Soren wrung his hands. "He thinks… if he delivers you, Ashar will spare the rest of us. You don't know what Ashar is like, Kael. He doesn't want to rule. He wants to burn everything that forgot him."
Kael stood slowly. "Then he'll have to go through me."
Seraphine met his gaze. "And me."
They didn't have to wait long.
Before dawn, a tremor ran through the Sanctum. The walls shivered. The flame in the heart of the brazier turned black.
And then—he stepped through it.
Ashar.
Tall as a tower, robed in shadow. His horns were crowned in fire. His eyes were endless voids, swirling with memory and madness.
"My son," he said. "You've come home."
Kael stepped forward, head high.
"You tried to kill me."
Ashar smiled faintly. "I tried to protect you. From yourself."
"From your throne, you mean."
Ashar's voice dropped like a blade. "No. From the Mirror."
And before anyone could react, Ashar snapped his fingers.
Malric, Dareth, and Soren screamed as the flames on their bodies ignited, searing into their chests.
Kael moved without thinking, summoning a wall of fire between his brothers and the inferno—but Ashar simply walked through it.
"You were always stronger than them," Ashar whispered. "Because you were born to break the world—and remake it."
"I'll never be your weapon," Kael growled.
Ashar smiled, and his eyes flared with ancient light.
"We'll see."