The balance of Flame and stone

"There is no greater burden than to be remembered only by your sins."

A Valley Touched by Time

The sky had darkened into a stormless dusk.

No clouds. No wind. Just stillness.

The Ridge had led them here—the Hollow Vale, a massive bowl-like valley surrounded by broken teeth of stone, as if some ancient creature had bitten the world and left its mark.

Kaizen stood at the crest, gazing down into the remains of a sunken coliseum built into the crater's heart. Ruined pillars jutted from shattered stone terraces like ribs, half-swallowed by creeping vines and time. All around, the earth cracked in spirals—just like the symbol of the Sixfold Veil.

Yvonne walked beside him in silence, the deep-blue folds of her dress glowing faintly with flame-light, her hair flickering with the last embers of the firestorm they left behind.

"This place feels… held," she murmured.

"Held?" Kaizen asked.

"Not abandoned. Like it was never meant to be found again."

Kaizen stepped forward. His boots crunched on spiral-shaped shale, and a memory stirred—not from this life, but the one before.

He had sealed this place. He had built it.

And deep beneath, something he once loved—but feared—still stirred.

The Awakening of Korravyn

They descended into the crater. Every step resonated like a chime within Kaizen's bones.

Yvonne's magic flared unprovoked, her flame pendant pulsing with blue light.

"Something's coming," she warned, unsheathing a flame-inscribed dagger she rarely used.

Kaizen's fists clenched. He already knew.

And then it came.

A deep, metallic moan tore through the stone—like tectonic plates screaming. A section of the coliseum floor collapsed, sending dust and debris spiraling into the air. From the pit, something climbed.

The ground shuddered. Ancient chains snapped. And then—it emerged.

The First Spiral Hound

It stood twenty feet tall—quadrupedal, but unnatural.

Its body was made of blackened stone plates fused together with glowing molten seams. It had no fur, no eyes. Instead, a crimson spiral glyph pulsed in the center of its face—a mask of jagged obsidian where a head should be.

Its body was adorned with runic shackles and broken talismans that floated near it like orbiting moons. Symbols of the Spiral—perverted and dripping red light.

Its movement was fluid but fractured—like time itself fought against letting it exist again.

And then, it howled.

The sound bent the air. Birds in the cliffs dropped mid-flight. The mountain cracked.

Kaizen stumbled back a step, his eyes wide.

"No…" he whispered. "Korravyn."

Yvonne's brows furrowed. "You know it?"

"He was once a guardian of the Spiral. A creature of purity and protection. Until I chained him here."

The creature's spiral eye turned. And locked onto Kaizen.

Clash of Fire and Stone

The beast moved—faster than anything so massive should. A blur of cracked stone and molten rage.

Kaizen lunged to meet it. His gauntlets—still glowing faintly from the Choir Hall—struck against the creature's limb, redirecting its charge. The impact shook the crater, and Kaizen was flung into a broken column.

"Kaizen!" Yvonne cried, raising her hands.

Her sigils spun into the air—five glyphs, each drawn in flame.

"Riy'lthanar!"

A lance of sapphire fire arced forward, searing toward the beast's core.

But before it struck, the Hound shuddered—and phased sideways, the flame slicing through empty space.

"It's not just fast," Yvonne muttered. "It's unchained from time…"

The Hound countered.

A roar of anti-spiral energy erupted from its jaws—a cone of crushing force, tearing open the ground. Kaizen dove through it, stone skin shielding him barely.

"We have to anchor it," he grunted, slamming his fists into the earth.

Stone pillars erupted from the ground around the Hound's legs—but it broke them with a single spin, sending fragments in every direction.

One shard pierced Yvonne's shoulder. She gritted her teeth, ignored the pain, and whispered:

"Ashwev'korr. Burn through memory."

A flare of blue-white fire ignited around her wound, cauterizing and empowering.

Remembering the Name

Kaizen rose, panting, staring at the creature.

"You were my companion. You were never meant to be a weapon."

The Hound paused.

Its spiral eye flickered.

"You were loyal," Kaizen said louder. "You were my shadow during the first fall of the Spiral… You died. I buried you. But they—they brought you back like this."

Yvonne stood beside him. "Speak its name."

Kaizen closed his eyes, reached into the mask embedded in his soul.

"Korravyn…"

A wave of pulse energy burst outward from Kaizen's chest.

The Hound staggered.

Its body began to crack—not with damage, but with remembrance.

Its mask split down the center, revealing a second spiral beneath—gold, not red.

"I'm sorry," Kaizen whispered. "I should have died beside you."

The beast let out a mournful sound—no longer rage, but release.

It knelt.

And shattered into dust and light.

A single golden fang fell to the earth.

Kaizen picked it up, hand trembling.

Watchers and Spiralbound React

Far away, the Spiral Priest slammed a hand on his scrying pool, spilling shadowglass.

"The Hound remembered," he hissed. "And so did the boy."

High above, in the chambers of the Silent Vault, Watcher Selneia watched with worry.

"The Veil cracks. The balance shifts again."

"We will need to act," said Vorrik. "Before they remember everything."