The sun had barely risen over Caldrith Vale when Irisen, Elyra, and Kareth prepared to depart. The city still bore the scars of recent unrest—the blackened edges of burned-out stalls, the lingering scent of ash mingling with the ever-present heat.
"I don't like leaving the city unsettled," Elyra said, tightening the straps on her satchel. Her amber eyes scanned the horizon where molten rivers glowed faintly beneath the morning mist. "The True Pyres will only grow bolder if we don't find answers."
Kareth, sharpening his blade with measured strokes, grunted in agreement. "They're fanatics, but dangerous ones. If we don't uncover the truth about the Brand—and the Everburn Heart—we're fighting shadows."
Irisen stood quietly, the weight of the Brand heavy at his side. The ancient weapon hummed faintly, its fire responding to his unease.
"It's time," he said finally. "We need to know where it came from… and why it chose me."
⸻
Their path led eastward, away from the jagged spires of Caldrith Vale and toward the Cinderwilds—a region whispered about in fearful tones across the realm.
Tales were told of endless forests of flame-wreathed trees, their branches crackling with eternal fire, where the ground shimmered like embers beneath one's feet. Few dared to enter, for the Cinderwilds were said to be a place where reality bent like heat above a forge—where lost gods and forgotten spirits dwelled, and mortal men rarely returned.
As they journeyed, the landscape shifted.
Ash-laden skies stretched overhead, and the soil beneath their boots turned hot and cracked, sending wisps of smoke curling upward. Even the air felt thicker, heavier with ancient power.
⸻
After a day's travel, they reached the edge of the Cinderwilds.
The forest before them was a living inferno—trees ablaze with a fire that did not consume, glowing with colours ranging from blood red to ghostly blue. The crackle of flames was a constant, eerie chorus.
Elyra pulled her cloak tighter. "The Cinderwilds test more than your body. They test your will."
Irisen stared into the flames, feeling the brand pulse at his side like a heartbeat. "Then we'll need all our strength."
⸻
They stepped into the forest.
At first, the flames seemed to dance away from them, as if acknowledging a cautious truce. But soon, the fire turned restless, flickering and writhing like serpents.
Kareth gripped his sword tightly. "Stay close. The Cinderwilds don't forgive mistakes."
Suddenly, a chorus of voices—soft, echoing—rose from the blaze.
"Who walks among the eternal flame?"
Irisen's breath caught.
From the fire itself emerged a figure—tall and slender, wreathed in shifting blue flames, eyes like molten silver.
"I am Serithiel," the spirit said, voice like crackling embers. "Guardian of the Cinderwilds and keeper of the flame's true nature."
Irisen stepped forward, voice steady despite the awe tightening his chest. "I seek answers. About the Brand, the Everburn Heart… and my purpose."
Serithiel's eyes flickered. "The brand you bear is both curse and blessing—an echo of the ancient flame god, long thought extinguished."
⸻
The spirit led them deeper into the forest, past twisting trees whose bark burned without ash, past rivers of molten glass that shimmered like stars beneath the flames.
"There was once a god named Ignarion," Serithiel said. "He was the first bearer of fire's gift—its creation and destruction. But his hunger for power scorched the heavens. The gods bound him in eternal flame, splitting his essence into shards scattered across the realm."
Irisen listened, the Brand's warmth intensifying with every word.
"The Everburn Heart is one such shard," Serithiel continued. "It chose you because it senses a kindred fire. But beware—the shard does not give power without cost. It feeds on doubt and fear."
Elyra frowned. "So the Brand could consume him?"
"Only if he lets it," Serithiel said.
⸻
Suddenly, the ground trembled.
Flames roared.
From the shadows of a great fire-forged tree, a hulking shape emerged, covered in molten rock and blazing eyes.
A Firewrought Colossus.
It bellowed, the heat near unbearable.
Kareth raised his sword.
"Stay behind me!"
Irisen gripped the Brand, feeling the ember's pulse sharpen into a roar.
But then, something inside the Brand shifted—a deep resonance that calmed the fiery beast.
The Colossus hesitated, then bowed its blazing head.
Serithiel nodded. "You carry Ignarion's will. Not all flame is destruction. Some can be tamed."
⸻
As they pressed on, Irisen felt a new clarity.
The Brand was not just a weapon—it was a link to something greater.
Yet the shadows lingered.
The Everburn Heart's hunger was real.
And so was the prophecy.
⸻
That night, under the burning stars of the Cinderwilds, Elyra whispered beside the fire.
"You're not just fighting the Ashen Lords, Irisen. You're fighting the fire inside yourself."
He met her gaze, the brand's flames flickering softly in the night.
"I hope I'm strong enough."
⸻
The journey into the Cinderwilds had changed everything.
Irisen was no longer just the boy who carried a cursed flame.
He was becoming the Ember of the Forgotten Realms—a beacon of hope… or the spark of ruin.