The sky above the Frostlands was a jagged slate of grey, veiled in endless flurries. Snow drifted in churning waves, carried by wind that howled with the force of an ancient beast. Beneath the battered surface of this ice-bitten wilderness, chaos seethed in the hollow bones of the land.
Kira Vellin's boots skidded over frozen stone, her arms locked around Mira Sareth's waist as she half-dragged the flamewright through the winding tunnel beneath the Helvani ruins. Behind them, the chants of the Hollow Spiral cultists pulsed louder twisted echoes of forbidden hymns that reverberated through the ice with an unnatural cadence. The very walls of the tunnel seemed to hum with sickness.
"I told you…" Mira's voice was barely audible above her ragged breathing, "I'm out of fire. My channels are burnt."
Kira didn't reply. She couldn't. Her jaw was clenched too tight from pain and fury. One of her shoulders was dislocated, her side slick with blood. The Rune of Descent inscribed on her gauntlet glowed faintly a last gambit. It was imperfect. Unstable. But it would have to work.
The tunnel yawned open ahead into the Hollow's Edge a narrow ledge overlooking a frozen abyss, a thousand feet of jagged ice formations and ley-infused snowfields. Below, the frostlight shimmered like ghost-fire over the ancient leyflow that had carved the Grand Hollow long ago.
Kira staggered to the edge. "Mira. You ready to fall?"
Mira coughed. "Not particularly."
"Too bad." Kira shoved the Rune of Descent between them and triggered it. The charm flared, encasing their bodies in a shimmering aurora of runic light.
And then they leapt.
They plummeted like stones thrown by fate itself. The descent rune slowed them, but not by much. Their weight ripped through the air like meteors. They bounced hard off a sloping ice wall, twisting mid-air before slamming into a snow drift that broke their fall with all the grace of a hammer to the spine.
Kira rolled, coughing blood, her face scraped raw. Her blade was gone. Her knees buckled as she scrambled to Mira's side.
The flamewright was unconscious. Her bracers scorched. Her breath shallow.
Then came the silence.
For one long moment, it seemed as though they'd bought themselves a sliver of peace.
And then the cultists arrived.
They didn't fall they glided. From the ledge high above, masked figures descended as if the air bent to their will. Twenty. Thirty. More. Silent. Cloaked. Their presence a violation of everything sacred in the Spiral.
Kira rose shakily. Her right arm hung limp, but her left could still hold a blade. She stood over Mira's body, blood freezing to her armor.
"No more running," she murmured.
One cultist stepped forward. He wore a crown of thorns bound in shadowflame. A priest of the old rites.
He pointed. "Surrender the vessel. The Hollow must feed."
Kira bared her teeth. "Come take her, bastard."
They rushed her.
Kira moved like fire given form. Her blade sang through the first attacker's throat. She ducked low, reversed her grip, and stabbed another in the knee. A third hit her with a blast of corruption magic, throwing her into the snow. Her body screamed in agony.
Just as the killing blow descended
A sound split the Hollow.
A warhorn. Ancient. Thunderous.
Then came light.
A rip in the air, bright as sunrise, tore open behind Kira. From within it marched the golden Flameguard dozens of warriors in gleaming plate etched with runes. Their shields bore the sigil of the Phoenix Flame. At their head stood Lucian, glaive burning with righteous fury.
"Defend the Hollow!" he bellowed.
Aurora descended next.
Not walked. Not ran. She fell like a comet of gold and crimson fire, flame trailing from her cape, her boots cracking the stone as she landed beside Kira.
Kira stared up through tears. "You came…"
Aurora dropped to one knee and pressed her hand to Kira's chest. Healing flame surged into her. "I always do."
Hours earlier in Emberreach, the Flamebearer's tower was a tempest of orders, arcane readings, and war chants.
Aurora paced before the Flamegate. The moment Kira's Flamecall shard activated, she knew. The Hollow Spiral had reemerged. A ritual site active in the Frostlands. It was her worst fear.
"Tamsin," Aurora called. "What's the leyline overlay for a Hollow breach?"
Tamsin unrolled a frostmap. "We can't use direct Flamegate. Too much corruption. But we can jump near the canyon mouth. East shelf."
Lucian was already buckling on his warplate. "Shieldbearers ready?"
"All twenty. Skyfire medics too."
Aurora nodded. "Then we burn."
She stood at the gate's edge, surrounded by her elite guard. Their armor shimmered with phoenix sigils. The moment the gate opened, heat spilled into the room like a rising sun.
"This is not a rescue," Aurora said, voice calm but resonant. "This is a reckoning. We will not retreat. We will not falter. We are the last light of Emberreach, and today, we reignite the Spiral."
They stepped through the flame.
Back in the Hollow, chaos erupted.
Flame met shadow in explosive waves. Runes carved in mid-air collided with corrupted glyphs. The cultists screamed and writhed as holy fire incinerated their spells.
Lucian drove through the enemy lines, glaive spinning like a hurricane of molten steel. Shieldbearers pushed forward, locking ranks. Skyfire medics reached Kira and Mira and began emergency restoration.
Above the battle, the air warped again.
The High Ascendant emerged.
He was cloaked in living darkness, his form twisted by years of forbidden magic. His face was a mask of spiraled bone, his arms branded with cultist scripture.
He did not speak with words.
"I am the Spiral Ascending," his voice echoed through their minds. "And you, Flamebearer, are the last candle in the dark."
Aurora rose into the air to meet him.
"I am the dawn," she answered.
Their clash shattered the sky.
Fire clashed with void. Mountains trembled. The Grand Hollow cracked beneath the force of their battle. Cultists were turned to ash. Flameguard fell to their knees from the force of leyline backlash.
And through it all, Aurora did not falter.
She hurled light through darkness, drawing upon the Hidden Flame itself. Her fire twisted into wings behind her, each beat breaking the sound barrier. The High Ascendant countered with void tendrils and temporal folds, but Aurora's fury could not be contained.
Below, the Flameguard rallied.
Lucian reached Kira. "Report."
"Thorne's gone. Taken."
Lucian's expression turned to stone. "Then we retrieve him."
The medics stabilized Mira. She clutched Kira's hand weakly. "Is it over?"
Kira looked up at Aurora. "Not yet. But it will be."
Above, the High Ascendant summoned a final spell a spiral of void meant to collapse the leylines. Aurora responded by diving through it, her fire exploding outward in a nova that illuminated the Frostlands.
When it cleared, only one figure remained in the air.
Aurora.
She drifted down to the ground, exhausted, armor scorched but whole.
"The Hollow is sealed," she declared. "But the war has just begun."
Around her, the surviving Flameguard raised their weapons.
"FOR THE SPIRAL!"
Their voices echoed for miles.
And far beyond the Hollow, in the depths of the corrupted sanctum, a pair of glowing eyes opened.
Thorne was alive.
But he was no longer alone.