The Price Of Light

The city didn't sleep anymore.

Not fully.

Ever since the rebellion's spark had caught flame, even the bricks seemed to hold their breath. Guards moved in tighter rotations. Merchants whispered instead of shouted. Windows stayed shut past dusk.

The people knew something was coming. They just didn't know from where.

Richard stood in the tower ruins of the chapel, overlooking the far southern quadrant of the city—a web of alleys that wound down to the armory district. Beyond it, tucked beneath the earth like a buried sin, lay the Vault of Kareth.

Maria stepped up beside him, her cloak fluttering in the wind.

"You're quiet," she said.

"I'm thinking about what's down there," Richard answered. "The relics they stole from the Guardians. The things we were never meant to see."

Maria nodded. "And what happens if what we find isn't what we expected?"

Richard's jaw tightened. "Then we make our own truth."

---

The Vault

The Vault of Kareth was not a palace. It was older—ancient, even. A relic itself, carved into the bedrock of the old city and sealed during the final years of the War of Crowns.

According to Elias's maps and scattered notes from Marcus's journals, it was protected by warding runes and locked behind flame-sensitive stone. Only someone carrying the bloodline and the Flame could breach it.

That someone was now walking toward its gates.

---

The Infiltration

Carly and Elias waited by the southeast drainage canal, cloaked in black, breath fogging in the chill.

"I still say we should've brought more people," Carly muttered, tapping her boot against the stones.

Elias shook his head. "Too many lights. This requires precision, not noise."

"And what if the prince already knows we're coming?"

"He does," said Maria as she and Richard approached. "He's counting on it."

Carly cursed under her breath. "Lovely."

"Which is why," Richard added, "we're going in beneath him."

He pulled a cloth from his bag, revealing a diagram of the lower cistern—a crumbling underground passage that connected to the foundation of the Vault.

"Here," he pointed, "this runoff tunnel was sealed decades ago, but it was once used to smuggle weapons out of the eastern quarter. It runs within twenty meters of the Vault's base."

"You think we can break in from below?" Carly asked.

"I don't think," Richard replied, eyes hard. "I know."

---

Underground

The tunnel reeked of rust and damp earth. Moss slicked the stones, and stagnant water pooled in uneven cracks.

Carly lit a rune-lantern, casting pale blue light ahead.

Maria kept her hand on the hilt of her dagger, eyes scanning every shadow.

Richard, at the front, moved with purpose—but not ease. Every step echoed too loudly, every creak of stone felt like a scream in the silence.

Then they found it.

A slab of obsidian-like rock, sealed with markings older than any of Elias's translated runes. Richard reached out. The runes pulsed faintly in response.

"They know you," Elias said.

"They remember," Maria corrected.

Richard laid his palm flat. The flame inside his chest surged—not violently, but in recognition.

The wall shimmered.

Then groaned.

And opened.

---

Inside the Vault

The chamber was massive.

Vaulted ceilings arched overhead, inscribed with runes that shimmered with golden flame. Crates and shelves lined the walls—not just relics, but weapons, tomes, and fragments of broken artifacts that hummed with dormant power.

Maria whispered, "This isn't a vault. It's a graveyard."

Richard stepped forward toward a pedestal at the room's heart.

On it rested a blackened gauntlet, cracked down the middle, glowing faintly along its seams. A name was etched into the stone beneath:

IGNIS PRIMORDA — The First Flame

Elias gasped behind him. "That's impossible. The Primorda was destroyed."

"No," Richard whispered. "It was hidden."

He reached for it—

And the world shifted.

---

The Memory Flame

The room melted away in a wave of white fire.

Richard stood in a vast desert, skies red with ash. Mountains burned in the distance. And before him stood a woman in silver armor, her hair braided like Maria's, her eyes glowing with molten light.

"You're not ready," she said.

Richard blinked. "Who are you?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she raised a sword wreathed in flame and struck the ground.

Visions erupted:

A tower collapsing in fire.

Children marked with flame, carried away by soldiers.

A crown dipped in burning blood.

A boy—Marcus—kneeling before a throne, flame chained to his wrists.

Then silence.

The desert vanished.

---

The Truth Beneath

Richard staggered back, gasping. Maria caught him.

"You saw something," she said.

He nodded, still breathless. "The Flame… it wasn't always a gift. It was a weapon. A tool used by the first monarchs to dominate the continent. Marcus knew. That's why he vanished."

Carly paced near the shelves. "So what, the Flame isn't divine? It's a relic from a war machine?"

"No," Elias said, shaking his head. "Not just a relic. It's sentient. Not like us—but aware. It remembers its wielders. Its pain."

Richard stood, steadier now. "And it chose me not to conquer—but to end the cycle."

---

The Trap Closes

A crash.

The ceiling trembled.

Boots above.

Carly cursed. "They're here."

Selene's voice echoed down the hall. "You made it further than expected, little fire."

Richard turned to the others. "Scatter. Take what you can. Get out through the cistern tunnel. I'll hold them here."

"No," Maria said instantly.

"You have to go," he snapped. "If they catch all of us—this ends. You said it yourself: the flame has to outlive us."

She met his gaze. A pause. A breath.

Then she kissed him—quick, desperate, real.

"I'm coming back for you," she whispered, eyes bright with something more than just flame.

Then she ran.

---

Duel in the Vault

Selene entered first, flanked by two Inquisitors clad in onyx and crimson.

Richard stood before the Primorda gauntlet, the fire in his hands quiet, controlled.

"Bold of you," Selene said, stepping forward. "To die here, alone."

"I'm not alone," Richard said. "Not anymore."

He raised both hands, and the vault lit with golden flame.

The Inquisitors struck first—one with a hooked blade, the other channeling some twisted arcane seal.

Richard spun, dodging the first strike and unleashing a wall of heat to block the second.

Selene stepped through it.

Unaffected.

She drew a curved black dagger that hissed when it moved. "I've waited years to kill a true Flameborn."

"You'll have to wait longer," Richard growled.

They clashed.

Blade met flame. Magic scorched stone. Sparks burst from every strike.

Selene was faster.

Richard was stronger.

But the difference was resolve.

He wasn't fighting to survive.

He was fighting to change everything.

---

Escape and Sacrifice

Above, Maria and Carly emerged into an alley two blocks from the vault's entry tunnel. Elias stumbled out behind them, clutching a scroll.

They heard it before they saw it.

The explosion.

The street shook. A tower collapsed in the distance. Fire bloomed under the cobblestones, smoke rising into the night like a signal to the gods.

Maria turned, heart slamming against her ribs.

"No."

She ran toward the smoke, but Carly grabbed her. "We'll lose everything if you go now."

"I can't leave him."

"He told us to," Carly snapped. "If we go back, his sacrifice means nothing."

Maria screamed into the night, rage and sorrow and flame all tangled together.

But she didn't run back.

She walked.

Slowly.

Like the world had turned to ash beneath her boots.

---

The Ember Survives

Later, when the fire crews searched the Vault's ruins, they found no body.

Only the shattered pedestal, the Primorda gauntlet gone.

And a single line carved into the stone wall in flame-scored runes:

"The fire lives on."

---

End of Chapter 9