THE NAMES THAT BURN IN THE SILENCE OF TIME AND THE FORGOTTEN HERITAGE (Special – Part 2 Final)
The ancient heat of Darakthar's depths wrapped around the protagonists as they faced the Zykrath Nolthem. Flames danced in the igneous crystal torches, casting shadows that seemed to come alive against the obsidian walls. The echo of battle reverberated through the corridors, blending with the ancient whispers of arcane inscriptions.
Zyrion, still dazed from the vision caused by the mysterious woman's touch, pushed himself up with difficulty. His eyes had shone for a fleeting instant with a supernatural intensity, revealing fragments of a forgotten past and a future yet uncertain.
Caelithra rushed to him, her voice full of concern:
"Zyrion, are you alright? Your eyes… changed. It was like… you weren't here."
Zyrion nodded slowly, struggling to process what he had seen.
"I saw a throne engulfed in flames, a dragon asleep beneath a mountain, and my own face… consumed by fire. And above it all, the symbol of the Eternal Flame spinning like an unblinking eye."
Ysmera, who had been watching from a distance, approached cautiously.
"Those visions… they're fragments of the prophecy. The Eternal Flame shows you what was, what may be… and what you must prevent."
Maerisse added, her voice soft but solemn:
"The Eternal Flame does not only reveal—it warns. Your choices will determine whether those visions become reality."
Zyrion looked at the two women, still shaken.
"I need to understand more. How do you know all this about me—and about the Eternal Flame?"
Ysmera exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with Maerisse before responding.
"Because, like you, we have been touched by the Flame. Since we were children, we've had dreams and visions that guided us here. We knew we would find you in Darakthar."
Maerisse nodded.
"And we knew that together, we would unravel the mysteries surrounding the Eternal Flame and the prophecy."
Zyrion exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of their revelations.
"Then what do we do now?"
Ysmera looked toward the heart of the chamber, where the sphere of fire still burned intensely.
"We must go deeper into Darakthar. Discover what secrets lie beneath and face the trials waiting for us. Only then will we understand the full role each of us plays in this story."
Maerisse placed a reassuring hand on Zyrion's shoulder.
"You are not alone in this. Together, we'll face whatever comes."
As the group prepared to continue, the flames of the Eternal Flame burned brighter—as if acknowledging their resolve and urging them forward in their search for truth.
The ancient stairs spiraled downward, carved from a reddish mineral that emitted a faint glow—like the heartbeat of the world pulsing beneath their feet. The air grew dense, heavy with sulfur, arcane dust, and a faint ancestral murmur emanating from the very walls. The torches did not burn with ordinary fire; their bluish-red flames responded to the emotions of those who passed by.
Zyrion walked in silence, his brow wet with sweat from Darakthar's oppressive heat. At his side, Ysmera and Maerisse watched him closely. Behind them, Caelithra, Karion, Velkran, Quindarion, Kyrahna, Taliena, Nivhira, Cilera, Valric, Ryvak, and Tzarelle kept a steady pace—still alert after the battle with the Zykrath Nolthem. The threat had not ended… it had only changed shape.
"It's getting hard to breathe down here," Taliena murmured, wiping sweat from her forehead as her eyes traced the faceless statues carved into the walls—figures that seemed to be watching them from another time.
"Because the Fire down here isn't just hot—it's ancient… alive. It feels. Darakthar is a sanctuary, yes, but also a living wound in the world," Ysmera replied, lowering her gaze as if she knew every inch of that infernal labyrinth.
Zyrion stopped. He stared at Ysmera for a long moment, his voice barely a whisper.
"I want you to tell me again. How do you know my name? Before we ever met… you already knew it. You said it as if the gods themselves whispered it to you."
Maerisse, her long hair like strands of obsidian, spoke first.
"In our dreams, Zyrion. For years. We saw your face in the flame. We heard your name spoken in tongues that no longer exist."
Ysmera stepped closer, her eyes shimmering with something that was neither sorrow nor joy… something akin to profound devotion.
"In the flame… you stood at the center. The scar of the world. The one who would halt its unmaking… or become its destruction. We always knew we would find you—that you would find us. And now… here you are."
Zyrion stepped back, the fragment within him pulsing as if responding to their words.
"Who am I to you then? A chosen one? A punishment? A salvation?"
"A beacon," Maerisse answered without hesitation. "And a storm. You will be both."
Caelithra narrowed her eyes and cut in.
"If he burns, we burn with him. But I won't let him carry this alone."
Karion, who had stayed silent, finally spoke.
"And what about the Eternal Flame? Why does it feel like we're walking inside a will?"
Tzarelle responded softly, her eyes reflecting ancient knowledge.
"Because Darakthar wasn't built by human hands. It was discovered. It's the center of a network of power lines that cross the continent. This is where the first fragment was born. The Eternal Flame is a primordial force—alive—and it has been dormant… until now."
Zyrion clenched his fists. The fragment burned fiercely within his chest.
"Why now? Why awaken at this moment? Why ME?"
Ysmera walked toward him, and for the first time, her voice trembled.
"Because someone is calling it. From beyond this world. From beyond the Veil."
A heavy silence fell.
Velkran stepped forward, placing a hand on Zyrion's shoulder.
"We know you're fighting something, brother. You don't have to say it. But it's time to share it—before that thing inside you swallows you whole."
Zyrion lowered his head. The vision of the flaming throne, the sleeping dragon, the spinning symbol… they had fractured something deep within him.
"There's something inside me. Not just the fragment. Something else. When I touched that fire… I heard a voice. Speaking in a tongue I couldn't understand. But the last word—I recognized it."
"What word?" Taliena asked in a whisper.
"Kyrethron," Zyrion answered.
The name echoed like a curse among the stone columns. Even the fire seemed to recoil for a moment.
Valric, wide-eyed, whispered:
"But Kyrethron was—"
"Destroyed. I know," Zyrion interrupted. "But it's not as dead as we thought."
Suddenly, a gust of burning wind tore through the tunnel, and a new figure appeared before them.
A woman. Tall, draped in golden robes, with an aura so powerful the ground trembled beneath her feet. Her voice was crystallized fire.
"Zyrion, bearer of the Unknown Flame. The Judgment has begun."
Everyone drew their weapons, but Zyrion raised his hand.
"Who are you?"
The woman smiled, and her shadow turned into a dragon that roared across the walls.
"I am Ezhalra, Guardian of the Core."
TO BE CONTINUED…