Nyxborn-The Forgotten Etherium

The night was thick with tension. Fires flickered in the distance, torches marking the edges of what had once been a proud city. Now, Tiravol felt like a ghost clinging to memories, its rebirth depending on uncertain hands.

Renar stood at the edge of a broken balcony overlooking the city square, arms crossed as the wind tugged at his cloak. Below, the newly arrived factions mingled and murmured—some curious, some suspicious, most wary.

"You're uneasy," Selene said as she stepped beside him. She was calm, precise as always, her tone unreadable.

"Of course I am," Renar replied. "Half of those people came here hoping for a savior. The other half came looking for a reason not to trust one."

Selene smiled faintly. "That's the nature of revolutions. No one follows a leader without doubting him first."

He glanced at her. "And you?"

"I follow results." Her answer came without hesitation.

Behind them, Elira and Vael approached. Elira's expression was tight, troubled.

"We have a problem," she said. "A spy was found in the southern district. One of ours caught him trying to smuggle a messenger crystal—he was transmitting our locations."

"Order?" Renar asked sharply.

Vael nodded. "No crest or uniform, but definitely trained. He had encoded glyphs carved under his skin. Advanced. That's not common among typical scouts."

Selene's eyes narrowed. "Which means someone's watching us already—and they're not waiting for the war to start. It already has."

Renar's thoughts churned. They hadn't even solidified alliances yet, and enemies were already crawling in the shadows.

"Interrogate him?" Vael asked.

"No," Renar said. "I will."

---

A Whisper in Chains

The prisoner was bound with enchanted chains, surrounded by guards and spell-suppressing runes. But he didn't look afraid. He looked amused.

"Renar Alvane," the man greeted, smiling even through a split lip. "You shine brighter than the stars. It's no wonder the old ones stir."

Renar frowned. "Who are you working for?"

"Not the Order," the man said. "Something older. Deeper. The cracks you've made in the world—they're letting things crawl through again."

His words sent a chill down Renar's spine.

"You've awakened more than rebellion, Weaver. You've awakened the forgotten."

Before Renar could speak again, the man clenched his jaw—and his body ignited into a silent black flame, disintegrating in seconds. Nothing remained but ash and a scorched rune on the floor.

Selene arrived just as it happened. "What in the hells was that?"

"A message," Renar muttered. "We're not just fighting the Order anymore."

---

The Fire to Come

That night, as plans were drafted and alliances debated, Renar stood alone again—his eyes on the darkened sky.

They're watching us from the void. Whispering through cracks in reality.

He could feel the Storm's Eye stirring in his chest, sensing something vast and unknowable pressing against the veil of the world.

Elira found him there, quietly slipping her hand into his.

"You won't face it alone," she said gently.

He smiled faintly. "I know. But I'm starting to wonder if the world we're trying to build… will survive the war we've just begun."

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