The temple still burned.
Even though the flames had long since dimmed, the air in Dalareth's heart remained heavy—thick with smoke, dust, and the metallic tang of old blood. The obsidian walls groaned as the storm outside pressed against them. Somewhere beyond the dunes, thunder cracked like the roar of a waking god.
Adrian stood in the ruins, motionless, the ring on his finger glowing faintly gold. His eyes were unfocused, lost in the strange hum that still resonated through his bones. He could feel Draven's presence, even though the scientist was nowhere to be seen. That voice—cold, cruel, amused—echoed endlessly in his mind.
> "You found one of seven. But I hold the eighth."
The air around him still trembled with the echo of it.
Elena touched his arm softly. "Adrian. You've been staring at nothing for almost an hour."
He blinked, snapping out of it. "I can still feel him. He's close."
Kaelara stirred nearby, resting against a cracked pillar. Her skin still shimmered faintly with the residue of her flames, and her eyes—bright crimson, almost too vivid—seemed older than her body. "That's because he marked this place," she said quietly. "Draven doesn't leave shadows; he leaves wounds."
Lysara sheathed her blade, walking toward them. "Then we don't linger in a wound. We move before he bleeds it dry."
"Move where?" Elena asked. "We don't even know what direction he's taken."
Kaelara turned her head toward the open temple doors. Outside, the sands were still glowing faintly red. "We go north," she said. "To the city of Yareth. The sky there bleeds blue—an omen of the next bearer."
"The next ring?" Adrian asked.
Kaelara nodded weakly. "The Sapphire Ring. It controls the winds and minds of men."
Lysara exhaled. "Winds and minds. That sounds like a nightmare."
"Or salvation," Adrian murmured. "If we find them before Draven does.The group left Dalareth at dawn.
The desert stretched before them like a golden sea, rippling beneath the endless sun. Heat shimmered off the dunes, turning the horizon into a mirage of moving light. The Vesper had been left behind; there was no sea here, no escape. Only sand and silence.
Adrian walked ahead, leading the way, though his thoughts were a storm. Every step forward felt heavier. The ring pulsed now and then—soft, rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Sometimes he thought it was echoing his own pulse. Other times… it felt like something else was inside it, alive and whispering.
Elena walked beside him, her fingers brushing his lightly every so often, a silent reassurance. She didn't speak much now, and he didn't press her to. The bond between them was strong enough that silence said more than words could.
Behind them, Kaelara's presence burned faintly. She moved slower than the others, her body still recovering from centuries of confinement. Lysara kept near her, pretending to grumble about the heat, but Adrian could see the quiet worry in her eyes.
At midday, the wind shifted. Sand swirled upward in thin spirals, like smoke rising from invisible fires. The air grew colder.
Elena frowned. "That's not natural."
"It's the edge of Yareth," Kaelara said. "The land where storms never sleep."
As they crested a dune, the sight took their breath away.
Far below, the desert gave way to an endless plain of swirling blue mist. Lightning cracked horizontally across the horizon, and floating above it all—like a mirage made of light—was the city of Yareth. Its towers hung suspended in the sky, chained to the earth by bridges of pure wind. A citadel of glass and air, alive with stormlight.
Lysara whistled. "I've seen cities built on gold, but never one built on air."
Kaelara's expression darkened. "The Sapphire Bearer built this. Centuries ago. Before she fell."
"Fell?" Adrian repeated.
Elena looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"She gave herself to the wind," Kaelara said. "Body, soul, and memory. She became part of the storm."
Adrian frowned. "Then how can she still be alive?"
Kaelara looked at him, her crimson eyes filled with quiet sorrow. "Because the storm never dies."They reached the edge of the storm by nightfall. The sky above churned violently, winds shrieking like a thousand voices. Adrian could barely see through the haze, but Kaelara raised her hand, whispering in a language older than flame. A narrow bridge of light appeared before them, leading upward.
"One at a time," she said. "Step where I step. The storm doesn't forgive mistakes."
Elena grabbed Adrian's hand. "Then don't let go."
The bridge swayed as they climbed. The wind tore at their clothes, and sparks of blue lightning crackled around them. Every few steps, Adrian felt the ring react, its light flickering wildly. It was as if the storm recognized him—and was testing him.
Finally, they reached the gates of Yareth.
They were enormous, carved from translucent sapphire, and etched with runes that pulsed like living veins. The moment Adrian touched them, the runes blazed to life.
The doors opened silently, revealing a city frozen in time.
Buildings of glass floated on invisible currents. Ribbons of wind carried shards of light across the streets. And at the center, rising like a spiral of ice and sky, was the Spire of Winds—the heart of Yareth.
But the city was not empty.
Figures drifted through the air, translucent and blue, like echoes caught in a breeze. Their faces were calm, peaceful—and utterly dead. Spirits of those who had once lived here.
Elena shivered. "Are they…?"
Kaelara nodded. "Souls bound to the Sapphire Ring. The price of its power."
Adrian clenched his fist. "Draven will want this one most of all."
"He already has," said a voice.
They turned sharply.
Standing on a platform of floating crystal, cloaked in black and silver, was Draven.
He looked unchanged—his white hair wild in the wind, his eyes like twin shards of glass. In one hand, he held a blade that shimmered like liquid night. And on his finger, faintly glowing violet, was a ring.
The Eighth.
"Welcome to Yareth," he said with a smile. "I've been expecting you."Adrian's instincts screamed to attack, but Draven raised his hand casually. "Please. Let's not turn this into another temple incident. I'm here to talk."
Lysara scoffed. "You? Talk? You burn cities for experiments."
Draven smiled faintly. "Only the ones worth burning."
Elena drew her blade. "What do you want?"
"The same thing as you," he said simply. "To restore balance to the world. The rings were not meant to sleep forever. They are fragments of something greater—pieces of a divine machine."
Adrian glared. "You mean a weapon."
Draven shrugged. "Call it what you wish. But if the world must burn to be reborn, I'm willing to strike the match."
Lightning flared around them. The storm screamed louder, responding to his presence. The violet light on his hand pulsed once, and the air cracked open like shattered glass. From the void stepped a woman—tall, graceful, her eyes glowing deep blue.
Kaelara gasped. "No…"
It was the Sapphire Bearer.
Or rather, what was left of her.
Her body shimmered like mist, half solid, half storm. Chains of wind coiled around her wrists, and her expression was hollow—obedient. A puppet made of air.
Draven gestured to her with a smile. "You see? I've already claimed her. She's quite… responsive."
Adrian's heart pounded. "You enslaved her."
"I freed her," Draven countered smoothly. "She was trapped in her own creation, forever dreaming. Now she serves purpose."
Elena's blade trembled in her grip. "You're insane."
Draven tilted his head. "No, Miss Valen. I'm awake. And you, all of you—are still dreaming."
The wind surged. The Sapphire Bearer raised her hands, and the sky exploded with light. Cyclones ripped through the city, tearing glass towers apart. Adrian barely had time to throw up a barrier before the shockwave hit. Lysara was thrown against a wall; Kaelara caught her midair, flames flaring to life around them.
Adrian shouted over the roar, "He's controlling her through the ring!"
Kaelara's eyes burned. "Then break the link!"
"How?" Elena yelled.
Adrian closed his eyes, forcing the gold ring to resonate. The world fell away. He saw lines of energy stretching between them—threads of power connecting every ring, every bearer. Draven's violet thread snaked through the Sapphire Bearer like poison.
"I see it," he whispered. "The chain."
"Then cut it!" Kaelara cried.
Adrian focused, summoning every ounce of strength. The golden light brightened until it blotted out everything else. Draven's smirk faltered.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
Adrian opened his eyes, blazing with power. "Breaking your shadow."
The golden light burst outward, severing the connection.
The Sapphire Bearer screamed—a sound like thunder breaking—and the wind died instantly. The storm collapsed into silence. Draven staggered backward, his ring flickering.
The bearer fell, collapsing into Adrian's arms. She was light, almost weightless, her body fading even as she spoke. "You freed me…"
Adrian held her gently. "Rest now. You're safe."
She smiled weakly. "The storm remembers you."
Then she dissolved, her body scattering into a thousand blue sparks that drifted upward into the sky.
Draven stared, fury twisting his face. "You fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Adrian stood, golden energy still rippling from him. "Yes. I saved her."
Draven's laughter was cold, brittle. "Saved her? You've doomed her soul to nothingness. She could have been eternal!"
"She chose peace," Elena said softly. "Something you'll never understand."
For the first time, Draven's composure cracked. His hand clenched around the violet ring, eyes burning. "You think this is over? You've only delayed it. Every ring you awaken brings us closer to the convergence. And when it comes…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You'll see why I was right."
With that, he vanished into the storm, leaving only silence.
The wind calmed. Yareth's broken towers drifted slowly downward, settling on the sands below like fallen stars. The sky cleared, revealing the first true dawn the desert had seen in centuries.
Kaelara knelt beside Adrian, studying the fading trails of energy. "He wasn't lying," she said quietly. "The convergence is real."
Elena looked up at her. "What is it?"
"The moment when all rings awaken. When their bearers stand as one—or destroy each other."
Lysara sighed, dusting off her armor. "And I'm guessing we're the ones expected to do the standing part."
Adrian didn't answer. He was staring at the sky, lost in thought.
Elena touched his hand. "What is it?"
He turned to her, eyes full of both wonder and dread. "The ring showed me something when I cut the link. A glimpse of what's coming. The rings aren't just weapons, Elena. They're fragments of a god."
She frowned. "A god?"
"Not one that should ever wake."
Kaelara's voice trembled. "Then we must find the others before Draven does."
Adrian nodded slowly. "Before he wakes what sleeps beneath us all."
He looked toward the north, where mountains rose faintly in the distance—dark shapes against the dawn.
"The next ring is waiting," he whispered. "And so is destiny."
The dawn that rose over Yareth was unlike any other. The light fell softly on the shattered towers, turning the fragments of glass into rivers of blue flame. The air was calm now—too calm—like the world itself was holding its breath.
Adrian sat on the edge of a broken bridge, staring at the ruins below. The ring on his hand glowed faintly, as if whispering in a language he could almost understand. Every time he blinked, he saw flashes—faces he didn't recognize, worlds that didn't belong to this one, and a woman standing in the dark, holding a crown of fire.
He couldn't shake the feeling that it was a memory not his own.
Elena walked up quietly behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. For a moment, the weight of the world faded, replaced by the warmth of her presence and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
"You're trembling," she said softly.
"It's not fear," Adrian replied. "It's… resonance. Every ring I awaken makes the others louder. I can feel them calling. Not just to me—to each other."
Elena rested her chin on his shoulder. "Then we'll answer the call together."
Adrian turned to look at her. The sun caught her eyes—green and alive, burning with quiet strength. "You've always said that," he whispered. "Even when everything was falling apart."
She smiled faintly. "That's because you're worth holding onto."
He leaned forward, forehead touching hers, a silence heavy with unspoken emotion. Around them, the world glowed like molten glass, and for a brief moment, it felt like peace was possible.
But then Kaelara's voice broke the quiet.
"We need to move."
Lysara was already packing supplies into a worn leather satchel. "If Draven escaped, he's not retreating—he's regrouping. The next ring won't stay hidden for long."
Adrian stood, pulling Elena gently to her feet. "Then we go before the storm finds us again."
Kaelara pointed north, where the wind carried a faint scent of rain and stone. "The next bearer is somewhere in the Iron Mountains. But those lands are cursed. Nothing grows there anymore."
Elena's gaze hardened. "Then we'll bring life back with us."The journey north took them across wastelands that once were oceans. The ground was cracked, veins of blue light glowing faintly beneath the surface—a remnant of the Sapphire Ring's power. The group moved in silence, each step heavy with exhaustion and purpose.
At night, they camped beneath a sky that no longer slept. The stars pulsed faintly, as if reflecting the heartbeat of the rings themselves.
One evening, as the others slept, Adrian sat awake by the fire. The ring hummed against his skin, and when he looked into the flames, he saw her again—the same woman from his visions, standing amid ruins of light.
> "You are the bridge," she whispered. "You are the silence before creation."
"Who are you?" Adrian whispered.
But she only smiled. "When the seventh ring sings, the first will awaken again."
The fire flared suddenly, then dimmed. Adrian blinked, and she was gone.
Elena stirred beside him. "Bad dreams again?"
He nodded slowly. "They're not dreams anymore. They're warnings."
She reached out and took his hand. "Then we'll face them together, like always."
He smiled faintly. "You say that like you trust me."
"I don't trust you," she said, teasing. "I trust us."
Her voice was soft but sure, and it steadied him in a way no prophecy ever could.
By the third day, they reached the edge of the Iron Mountains. The landscape shifted from sand to jagged stone, black and lifeless. The wind carried whispers that didn't belong to the living.
Lysara's hand hovered over her dagger. "This place feels wrong."
Kaelara's flames flickered uncertainly. "The curse here runs deep. Draven's experiments started in these mountains."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Then this is where his shadow was born."
They pressed on, the air growing colder with every step. Strange symbols glowed faintly on the rocks—marks of the old world, etched by something ancient. The silence was suffocating until, from the darkness ahead, a faint metallic sound echoed—like chains scraping against stone.
Elena raised her sword. "We're not alone."
From the mist, figures emerged—tall, armored, their eyes burning with ghostly blue fire.
Kaelara hissed. "Storm sentinels. Guardians of the fallen ring."
Adrian stepped forward, golden light sparking from his hand. "Then they guard what we came for."
The sentinels moved as one, their blades cutting through the mist. The clash was sudden and brutal. Elena's sword met theirs in a shower of sparks, while Lysara danced between shadows, her daggers flashing like lightning.
Kaelara's flames roared to life, burning against the cold air, while Adrian's ring flared brighter than ever. Every strike sent ripples of gold light through the valley, echoing like thunder.
But the sentinels didn't fall—they reformed from wind and memory, endless.
"Adrian!" Elena shouted. "They won't die!"
He realized it too late—they weren't physical beings. They were bound to the Sapphire Bearer's lingering power. Only a song could end them.
"The ring!" Adrian shouted. "It's not a weapon—it's a voice!"
He closed his eyes and let the ring guide him. Light swirled around his hand, golden threads weaving into symbols that hung in the air. He whispered the words that came to him—not from memory, but from instinct.
> "Return to the wind. Sleep in the silence of your promise."The valley trembled. One by one, the sentinels froze, their blue flames flickering out. The chains that held their souls shattered into dust.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Lysara exhaled shakily. "Remind me never to make you angry."
Adrian smiled faintly. "I'm not sure it was me doing that."
Elena walked up to him, touching his cheek. "Then who?"
He looked down at the glowing ring. "Maybe the one who came before me."
Kaelara's eyes narrowed. "The echoes of past bearers are growing stronger. That means the convergence is near."
Elena frowned. "You keep saying that word. What does it really mean?"
Kaelara hesitated before answering. "When all rings sing together, they will awaken the Sleeper—the being from which the rings were forged."
Adrian's pulse quickened. "The god you spoke of?"
Kaelara nodded slowly. "Not a god. A creator. One who built the world—and then was torn apart to make it live."
Elena's voice trembled. "And when the rings reunite?"
Kaelara looked away. "He will rise again. And the world will end, or begin anew."
They reached the mountain's heart by dusk. A vast cavern opened before them, glowing faintly blue. In the center stood a pedestal carved from living crystal. And on it—a ring of deep silver, swirling with shadows and mist.
Lysara whistled low. "The Obsidian Ring."
Kaelara's face darkened. "The Ring of Memory."
As Adrian stepped closer, the air grew heavy. Whispers filled the cavern, fragments of forgotten voices. His chest tightened—the same voice from his dreams spoke again.
> "You are almost whole."
He reached for the ring, but before his fingers touched it, the ground shook violently. The pedestal cracked, and the shadows around the cavern began to take form.
Draven's laughter echoed through the chamber.
"Still chasing ghosts, are we?"
His figure emerged from the darkness, violet light spilling from his ring. "I told you, Adrian—you're waking something that should have stayed buried."
Adrian's voice was steady. "And you're killing everything trying to stop it."
Draven smiled coldly. "Balance, my dear boy. Every creation needs destruction."
He raised his hand, and the air split apart. Dozens of shadow creatures poured out—beings of mist and rage.
Kaelara ignited in flame. Lysara vanished into the dark. Elena stood beside Adrian, her blade drawn, her eyes fierce.
Adrian tightened his grip on her hand. "We finish this together."
She smiled, fearless. "Always."
The battle erupted. Fire met shadow, steel met void. The cavern shook under the force of magic and will. Adrian felt the ring pulling at his heart, burning with purpose. He reached for the Obsidian Ring, and when his fingers closed around it, light and darkness collided.
A blinding explosion filled the mountain, echoing across the world.
When the light faded, Draven was gone.
Adrian knelt, breathing hard, the new ring glowing faintly in his palm. It felt cold—not cruel, but sad.
Kaelara whispered, "Three rings now. Four more remain."
Elena looked at him, her voice quiet but steady. "And Draven still holds the eighth."
Adrian looked toward the mountain's mouth, where dawn light spilled through the mist. "Then we find the rest before he does."
Kaelara nodded, her crimson eyes burning. "Because when all eight sing…"
Lysara finished for her, "…the world will have to choose who gets to write its ending."
Adrian stood, the new ring glinting on his hand beside the others. He looked north once more, where thunder rumbled faintly on the horizon.
"The war of echoes has only just begun," he whispered.