Aric gagged as the thick liquid slid down his throat—rotten eggs and burnt copper. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then fire erupted in his veins again, but this time, it "cleansed". The wound in his chest stitched itself shut beneath his fingers, leaving only a jagged scar.
Across the dim cellar, Kael chuckled. "Congratulations, boy. You've just taken your first step toward becoming a proper Emberborn."
Aric wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What the hell was in that?"
"Ground-up bones of the last Pyre Priest," Kael said cheerfully. "Among other things."
Lysara's boot slammed into the old man's chair. "Don't lie to him." Her hands moved in sharp, irritated signs. "It's just alchemical sulfur and ember-root. The rest is superstition."
Aric barely heard her. His fingers traced the new scar. "You said every time I revive, I lose something. What did I forget this time?"
Silence.
Then— "Your sister's face."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Aric's breath caught. He "knew" he had a sister—fragments of memory clung to him like smoke. A laugh. A scolding tone. A small hand tugging his sleeve. But when he tried to picture her, his mind returned only a blurred silhouette.
"How much do I still remember?"
Kael sighed, flipping open his grotesque book. "Hard to say. The mind isn't a ledger. Some Emberborn forget their names first. Others lose their happiest memory. The Hollow King's cult? They "target" the important ones."
Aric's fists clenched. "Why?"
Lysara's fingers hesitated before signing, "Because a weapon without a past is easier to control."
---
SCENE BREAK: THE HOLLOW KING'S MARK
The cultists were still hunting them.
Aric, Lysara, and Kael moved through the Ashen District's underbelly—sewers stinking of rust and rot, tunnels where the city's unwanted lurked. Every shadow felt like a threat.
"We need to get out of the city," Aric muttered.
"Not yet."Kael's blindfolded face tilted toward the distant ceiling. "You're still weak. One more death, and you might forget how to breathe."
Lysara abruptly stopped, her boot scuffing the wet stone. She crouched, tracing something on the ground—a symbol burned into the rock.
**☽⃒**
Aric's scars "itched". "What is that?"
"The Hollow King's mark," Kael said grimly. Means this is a hunting ground.
Lysara's fingers tightened into fists. "They're herding us."
Aric's pulse spiked. "Toward what?"
The answer came in a whisper of movement above them.
A figure dropped from the sewer grate—hooded, masked, and wielding twin daggers etched with hollow circles.
"Toward *me*," the assassin hissed.
---
SCENE BREAK: THE FIRST EMBERBORN FIGHT
Aric barely dodged the first strike. The dagger grazed his shoulder, and pain flared—but not just physical pain.
"Memory."
A flash of a little girl's smile. "His sister." Then—gone.
"They poison their blades," Lysara signed furiously as she parried the assassin's second strike with her own flaming dagger. "Hurry up and *burn* him!"
Aric didn't know how. The fire in his veins was wild, untamed. But desperation clawed at him. He *needed* that memory back.
The assassin lunged.
Aric roared—and this time, the fire "listened."
His fist connected with the assassin's chest, and flames erupted between them. The man screamed as his robes ignited, stumbling back. But before Aric could finish him— "Wait!" Kael barked. "We need him alive!"
Too late.
The assassin grinned behind his mask—and bit down. A second later, he convulsed, black foam spilling from his lips.
Dead.
Lysara kicked the corpse. "Fanatic."
Aric stared at his still-smoldering hand. "Did I just…?"
"Yes,"Kael said. And you'll do it again. But next time—don't let them die before they talk.
---
CHAPTER ENDING: WHISPERS IN THE DARK
That night, Aric dreamed of fire.
Not the cleansing blaze of his rebirth, but something older. A great pyre, its flames whispering in a language he almost understood.
And standing before it—a figure in molten armor, his skeletal fingers outstretched.
"You will forget them all, little ember," the Hollow King murmured. "And then, you will be *mine*."
Aric woke gasping.
Lysara was already awake, her scarred hands gripping a dagger. "You heard it too?" she signed.
Aric's mouth went dry. "Heard what?"
The cellar walls trembled.
Somewhere above them, a chorus of voices chanted in unison—
"ASH TO ASH. SPARK TO SPARK. WE RETURN YOU TO THE DARK."
Kael sighed. "Ah. They've found us."
TO BE CONTINUED—