The village of Elmhollow burned as Kaela sprinted through the smoke, her boots crunching over shattered glass and charred timber. The air reeked of ash and sulfur, a stench that clung to her skin like a second layer. Behind her, the screams of villagers echoed, swallowed by the roar of flames devouring the thatched roofs. She didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Her brother’s voice still rang in her ears—*Run, Kaela, don’t look back.*
The forest loomed ahead, its trees skeletal against the blood-red sky. Kaela stumbled, her fingers scraping against the rough bark of an oak as she pressed forward. The ground beneath her feet was uneven, littered with the remnants of a forgotten war—rusted weapons, shattered pottery, bones bleached by time. She didn’t know why the village had been attacked, only that it wasn’t natural. The flames hadn’t come from fire. They’d come from *something* else.
A shadow moved in the trees. Kaela froze, her breath shallow. The figure was tall, draped in a cloak that seemed to drink the light. It tilted its head, and for a moment, she saw nothing but darkness where its face should have been. Then it spoke, voice like gravel grinding against stone. “You should not be here.”
Kaela’s hand drifted to the dagger at her belt, though she knew it would do nothing against whatever this was. “Who are you?” Her voice came out a whisper, but the creature didn’t answer. It simply extended a hand, and the air around it rippled, distorting like water. The trees behind it bent inward, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes.
“The fire is not done,” it said. “It will come for you next.”
Before she could react, the creature vanished, leaving only a faint smell of ozone in its wake. Kaela turned and ran, the forest closing in behind her. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she couldn’t stay. The village was gone. Her brother was gone. And something—something *wrong*—was still out there.
—
Dain found her two days later, huddled beneath the roots of a fallen tree, her clothes soaked through with rain and blood. She didn’t hear him approach, too lost in the rhythm of her own breathing. When he spoke, his voice was low, edged with something she couldn’t place. “You’re not from around here.”
Kaela flinched, her hand flying to the dagger again. “I don’t know where ‘here’ is.”
He crouched in front of her, studying her with dark eyes that seemed too still. “You’re running from something.”
“I’m running from everything,” she said. “What’s it to you?”
Dain didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled a small vial from his coat, its contents swirling like liquid starlight. “Drink this.”
She hesitated. “What is it?”
“Something that will keep the fire from finding you,” he said. “For a while.”
Kaela took the vial, her fingers trembling. The liquid was warm, almost alive, as she swallowed it. A shiver ran through her, not from cold but from something deeper—something familiar. She looked up at Dain, searching his face for lies. All she saw was exhaustion.
“Why help me?” she asked.
He exhaled slowly. “Because I’ve seen what happens when the fire takes someone. And I don’t want to see it again.”
—
They traveled east, following the remnants of an old road that had long since crumbled into dirt and stone. The land was different here—drier, quieter, as if the world itself had forgotten this place. Kaela kept her eyes on the horizon, but Dain watched the sky, his expression tight with something she couldn’t name.
“What’s out there?” she asked one evening as they camped beneath a cluster of jagged rocks.
Dain didn’t look at her. “A place called Virelia. A city that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“You’re saying it’s real?”
“I’m saying it’s *possible*,” he said. “But if you go there, you’ll have to face whatever’s waiting for you.”
Kaela didn’t respond. She didn’t know if she wanted to face anything. All she knew was that the fire had taken her brother, and she wasn’t going to let it take anyone else.
—
Virelia was a ruin, but not the kind that crumbled into dust. It stood like a wound in the earth, its spires jagged and broken, its streets paved with black stone that gleamed under the moonlight. Kaela felt it the moment they stepped inside—the weight of something ancient, something *alive*.
“This place is cursed,” she muttered.
Dain didn’t answer. He was already moving, his steps deliberate, as if he knew exactly where he was going. Kaela followed, her boots scraping against the stone. The air here was thick, heavy with the scent of something metallic—like blood and rust.
They found the first body in a courtyard, its face frozen in a silent scream. Kaela’s stomach twisted. “Who… who did this?”
Dain knelt beside the corpse, his fingers brushing against the fabric of its tattered cloak. “Not humans.”
“Then what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. Its pages were filled with symbols that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. “This is what I’ve been looking for,” he said, more to himself than her. “The last records of Virelia before it fell.”
Kaela peered over his shoulder. The symbols were unfamiliar, but something about them felt *right*, like they’d been waiting for her to see them. “What does it say?”
Dain’s jaw tightened. “It says the fire wasn’t an accident. It was a choice.”
“A choice?”
“The people of Virelia tried to control something they didn’t understand,” he said. “And they paid the price.”
Kaela’s breath caught. “My brother… was he part of this?”
Dain looked at her then, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know. But if he was, he might still be here.”
—
The deeper they went, the more the city resisted them. Doors that wouldn’t open, corridors that twisted back on themselves, shadows that moved when no one was there. Kaela’s nerves frayed, but she kept going. She had to.
They found the chamber at the heart of the city, a vast hall with a ceiling so high it vanished into darkness. In the center stood a dais, and on it, a figure—slumped, motionless, but unmistakably human. Kaela’s breath caught. “No…”
Dain stepped forward, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. “Stay back.”
But Kaela was already moving. She reached the dais and dropped to her knees, her hands trembling as she touched her brother’s face. His skin was cold, his eyes closed. “Kaela,” he whispered, so faint she almost didn’t hear it.
“I’m here,” she said, tears burning her eyes. “I’m here.”
He opened his eyes—black, empty, like two voids. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said, his voice a hollow echo. “The fire… it’s inside me now.”
Dain’s sword was drawn in an instant. “Get back,” he ordered.
Kaela didn’t move. “I won’t leave you again.”
Her brother’s hand closed around her wrist, tight and unyielding. “Then you’ll die with me.”
The fire erupted then, not from the sky or the ground, but from *him*—a wave of searing heat that knocked Kaela off her feet. Dain lunged, his blade flashing in the dark. The fire didn’t stop. It *devoured* everything in its path.
Kaela screamed as the heat seared her skin, as the world dissolved into fire and shadow. And then—nothing.
—
When she woke, it was to silence. The air was still, the sky a pale gray. She lay on the cold stone, her body aching, her mind fogged. The fire was gone. The city was silent.
Dain was gone too.
Kaela pushed herself up, her hand brushing against something hard. The leather-bound book. She opened it, and for the first time, she understood. The fire wasn’t a curse. It was a choice. A way to end what had begun in Virelia.
She stood, her resolve solid as stone. The fire had taken her brother, her village, her life. But it wouldn’t take everything.
She would find Dain. She would find the truth. And she would end this, one way or another.
