ETERNAL FIRE BENEATH DARAKTHAR, AND THE AWAKENING OF THE BROKEN SOUL
The silence weighed like the rusted iron of the old gates the group had just forced open to enter. The air was thick, saturated with ancient humidity and centuries-old dust. Only the sound of their footsteps—careful and restrained—broke the stillness of the underground.
They had reached the forgotten passages of Darakthar, the kingdom that, in the era of the Great Realms, had been both rival and ally of Kyrethron. It was said that its sunken underground citadel, buried after the First Fragment War, still held secrets tied to the fragments… and to the very Eternal Fire.
Zyrion walked at the front, his white mask reflecting the faint bluish glow emitted by the rocks embedded in the walls. He did not speak. He didn't need to: his steady breathing and unwavering steps were enough to keep the group moving.
Velkran, a few paces behind, muttered:
"This place gives me the creeps. Too quiet. Even the echo feels like it's… watching us."
Quindarion smirked without amusement.
"Maybe the echo is sizing you up, Velkran. And it doesn't like you."
Karion, who for the first time in a long while wasn't cracking jokes, walked at the rear. His eyes were sharper than ever. Taliena noticed and approached carefully.
"Since when are you this quiet?" she whispered.
Karion let out a short nasal laugh.
"Maybe silence weighs less than the words I can't say…"
Before Taliena could answer, Caelithra—always alert—raised her arm.
"I heard something…"
Everyone froze. Zyrion slowly turned his head. His eyes couldn't be seen behind the mask, but they all felt his intense, razor-sharp focus.
From a crack in the wall, a burst of hot, reddish air emerged like a burning whisper. Then… voices.
Human voices.
But not just any.
"Zykrath Nolthem," Kyrahna murmured. "They're close…"
Velkran scowled.
"They followed us again? Or are they after the same thing we are?"
Quindarion spoke in his usual serious tone.
"They're not searching… they're sensing it. Same as you and me, Velkran. They know something's been burning here for centuries. The Eternal Fire. If Xalorian was telling the truth, this could be its origin… or what remains of it."
Zyrion stopped before an ancient stone gate covered in inscriptions carved in a language he could barely remember. But the fragment inside him… burned.
A vision hit him.
The lake… again. But not calm this time. The water bubbled as if the world itself were boiling inside. He reached his hand, then his chest… his soul, until the living stone grabbed him. Fire. Pain. And a figure watching from the ruins: a woman with eyes like shattered embers, stretching her arm to rip something from his chest…
"Zyrion!" Caelithra shouted, grabbing him.
He gasped. The vision faded, but the burning in his chest did not. He straightened up slowly without speaking.
Karion walked toward him, serious.
"You sure you want to keep going?"
Zyrion barely turned his head toward him.
"We're already inside. All that's left is to move forward… or die in ignorance."
Velkran snorted.
"If you're going to talk like a martyr, make sure you don't become one today."
They ventured deeper into the carved corridors until the passage opened into a colossal underground chamber. At its center, a column of blue fire blazed—burning without consuming anything. And surrounding it… they stood.
Five figures. Two women, three men.
The Zykrath Nolthem.
Velkran immediately recognized one of them: Tzarelle, with hair red as flame and a gaze like molten blades.
"So you came to witness the fire that doesn't belong to you…" Ashure said with arrogance. "And you brought the white puppet too?"
Zyrion stepped forward, his voice deep and restrained.
"I'm no puppet."
One of the women, with short emerald hair, smiled cruelly.
"No… but soon you will be. The fragment inside you… belongs to me."
She extended her hand, and an invisible force pulled Zyrion toward her. But Caelithra reacted instantly, driving her spear into the ground and releasing a wave that shattered the spell.
"Not happening."
"Velkran!" Quindarion shouted, pointing at Tzarelle. "He's yours!"
"With pleasure!"
The clash erupted instantly. Weapons crackled, flames twisted like faceless beasts. The emerald-haired woman lunged again at Zyrion, but this time Taliena intercepted her, her spinning daggers creating circles of pure silver.
"Don't even think about touching him, bitch."
Zyrion staggered back, trembling. The fragment burned inside him. He couldn't control it. Not yet.
And then—another vision.
A tower in flames. Kyrethron. His mother. A face he could no longer recall… offering him the very mask that now imprisoned him. "Never forget who you are… nor who will come for you."
He collapsed to his knees.
Kyrahna reached him this time, gripping his shoulders.
"What are you seeing? Zyrion?"
He didn't answer. He only pressed his fists to the floor. The fire inside him… wanted to break free.
Quindarion shouted while clashing with Loryan:
"Don't let the fragment feed on your rage, Zyrion! Breathe!"
But Zyrion couldn't.
Because for the first time… he felt that the fragment didn't belong to him.
It belonged to something older.
Something hungrier.
Something alive.
The battle raged on through the depths of Darakthar. Flames danced across the stone walls, casting shadows that flickered like living creatures. Zyrion, still on his knees, felt the fragment inside him burning with uncontrollable force.
"Zyrion!" Taliena cried out, rushing toward him. "You must control the fragment. Don't let it consume you."
Zyrion lifted his head, his eyes shining with an intense white glow. "I'm not sure if I can…"
Meanwhile, Velkran and Quindarion fought fiercely against Xalorian and Loryan. Sparks flew with every clash, illuminating the surrounding darkness for brief moments.
"Never underestimate the Portadores!" Velkran shouted, blocking one of Xalorian's attacks.
"I never have!" Xalorian replied with a grin.
On the other side, Caelithra and Kyrahna fought the remaining Zykrath Nolthem. The two women coordinated with flawless precision, their movements fluid and deadly.
"We won't let you take the fragment!" Caelithra yelled, unleashing a burst of power at one of the masked enemies.
Suddenly, a female figure emerged from the shadows. Her presence was overwhelming, and her eyes radiated a blend of power and mystery.
"Who are you?" Zyrion asked, struggling to stay upright.
"I am Nivhira, and I've come to help you understand the true power of the fragment."
By her side, three more women appeared: Ysmera, Maerisse, and Cilera. Each one emitted a unique aura, their energies harmonizing with one another.
"You are not alone in this battle, Zyrion," Ysmera said softly.
Behind them, two men joined the group: Valric and Ryvak. Both carried weapons glowing with their own light.
"Together, we can face anything," Valric affirmed with conviction.
Surrounded by these new allies, Zyrion felt a renewed surge of strength. The fragment inside him seemed to stabilize briefly, responding to their presence.
"Thank you… I don't know who you all are exactly, but I can feel we can trust you."
Maerisse smiled. "Our destinies are intertwined, Zyrion. Together, we will uncover the truth behind the Eternal Fire and keep this world from being consumed by the shadows rising against it."
With the arrival of these unexpected allies, the battle shifted in their favor. The Portadores—now joined by Nivhira, Ysmera, Maerisse, Cilera, Valric, and Ryvak—fought with renewed hope, determined to unravel the mysteries of Darakthar and confront the dark forces rising against them.
TO BE CONTINUED…