ASHES OF THE SUNDERED STAR

Lira: The Cage of Stars

The Sky Tombs of Veythra were not tombs at all.

They were alive.

Lira pressed her palm to the icy floor of her prison, feeling the hum of ancient machinery beneath. The chamber pulsed with bioluminescent moss, its blue-green light reflecting off walls carved with star maps older than the kingdoms. The Starweaver Council had lied about many things, but this truth burned brightest: the tombs were a battery, syphoning energy from the Void to fuel Veythra's floating monasteries. And Lira was the key.

"You've been quiet," said the guard outside her cell—a boy named Erran, no older than sixteen, with a scarred lip and eyes that lingered too long on her shackles. "Most heretics scream."

Lira flexed her wrists, the iron cuffs biting into her skin. "Do they?"

"Beg for mercy. Recite prayers. You just… stare."

"I'm conserving my voice." She met his gaze. "For when I rip out your High Oracle's throat."

Erran flinched but didn't look away. "They say you're Nyrisia's shadow. That you'll drown the world in Void."

"And you believe them?"

He hesitated. "I believe the sky's been bleeding since you arrived."

Lira followed his nod to the chamber's domed ceiling. Crimson light seeped through cracks in the stone, staining the star maps like rust. The Dusk Eclipse was worsening, and the Council's lies couldn't hide it.

"You're smarter than they think," she said. "Help me, and I'll show you why the sky cries."

Erran's hand drifted to his dagger. "Why would I trust a heretic?"

"Because the Council murdered my mother." Lira leaned forward, chains clinking. "And yours too, probably."

The boy froze.

"Your eyes," she pressed. "They're Veythran blue, but your nose—Solaris. You're a half-blood. The Council purges those."

His knuckles whitened on the dagger. "My mother died in the mines."

"No." Lira softened her voice. "She was a Weaver. Like me."

The cell door creaked open.

Kael: The Oath of Ash

The Order of Ember's fortress loomed over Solaris's eastern dunes, its blackstone walls scarred by centuries of sandstorms. Kael stood in the training yard, Soulbrand strapped to his back, as the knights drilled around him. They moved like automatons, their swords cutting the air in perfect unison.

"Weakness is death," their chant echoed. "Doubt is decay."

"You don't belong here, Vyrion."

Kael turned. Jarel, the Order's new commander, stood with arms crossed. His face was a patchwork of burns, souvenirs from the Umbralis siege.

"You dragged me here," Kael said.

"To watch." Jarel nodded to a cage at the yard's edge. Inside huddled a Voidspawn—a child, no older than ten, its skin mottled with scales. "Today's lesson: mercy is a lie."

Kael's stomach turned. "That's not a demon. It's a kid."

"It's a weapon." Jarel tossed him a sword. "Prove your loyalty."

The yard fell silent. Knights formed a ring around the cage, their eyes gleaming beneath their helms. The Voidspawn child whimpered, pressing itself against the bars.

Kael stared at the sword. "They're testing you," Soulbrand whispered. "Kill it. Survive."

He stepped forward.

The child looked up, its eyes human. "Please."

Kael's grip tightened.

Then he pivoted, driving the blade into Jarel's thigh.

Chaos erupted.

Tyrus: The Rebel's Gambit

Umbralis' undercity stank of mildew and betrayal.

Tyrus crouched in the rafters of a derelict theater, watching the Voidspawn rebels gather below. They wore hoods to hide their mutations—a woman with serpentine eyes, a man with talons for hands, a child whose shadow writhed independent of her body.

"We remember," their leader rasped—a hulking figure named Goran, his skin studded with crystalline growths. "Fragments. Faces. The parasite made us monsters, but we were human once."

The rebels murmured agreement.

"And you?" Goran turned to Tyrus. "What do you remember, High Priest?"

Tyrus dropped from the rafters, landing lightly. His claw—regrown, thanks to the parasite's lingering influence—twitched at his side. "Enough to know you're wasting time. The Spire's heart is regenerating. We strike now or never."

Goran's crystals glowed. "You led the cult that cursed us. Why trust you?"

"Because I'm the only one who can get you inside." Tyrus raised his claw, the serrated edges catching the dim light. "And because I'm bored of losing."

The rebels shifted uneasily.

The shadow-bound child stepped forward. "I'll go with him."

Goran scowled. "Rissa—"

"He's got her eyes," Rissa said, pointing to Tyrus. "The Sundered Star. You care about her."

Tyrus stiffened. "I care about not dying."

"Liar." Rissa's shadow stretched toward him, forming a faceless figure. Lira. "She's in the Sky Tombs. You want to save her."

The rebels hissed. Goran's crystals flared. "You're still bound to the parasite!"

Tyrus sighed. "Fine. Let's do this the hard way."

He slashed his claw across his palm, letting black blood drip onto the floor. "The Spire's heart is vulnerable at moonrise. I open the gates. You burn it. Any objections?"

Rissa's shadow nodded. Goran bared his teeth.

"Good." Tyrus turned to leave. "Try not to die."

Convergence: The Eclipse Gate

The Sky Tombs shook.

Lira sprinted through collapsing corridors, Erran at her heels. The boy had picked the lock, but the Council's retaliation was swift—stone golems, summoned from the tomb walls, crushed everything in their path.

"This way!" Erran ducked into a side passage. "The vault's ahead!"

"The vault's a trap," Lira snapped. "We need the observatory!"

A golem's fist shattered the wall behind them. Erran yelped. "What's in the observatory?!"

"A way out!"

They burst into a circular chamber, its ceiling open to the bleeding sky. The Dusk Eclipse hung like a rotten fruit, its crimson light illuminating a pedestal at the room's center. On it lay a crown of blackened stars—Nyrisia's lost diadem.

Lira froze. "You," the crown whispered. "At last."

Erran grabbed her arm. "We have to go!"

The golems reached the door.

Lira seized the crown.

Power erupted.

Kael's Flight

The desert blurred beneath Kael's boots. Jarel's knights pursued, their witchhounds howling. Blood dripped from his side—a lucky spear thrust—but Soulbrand's warmth kept him moving.

"The tombs," the hammer urged. "She's there."

"I know!"

A shadow passed overhead—a Voidspawn with tattered wings. It dive-bombed the knights, screeching. Rissa's voice echoed in his mind: "Go! We'll hold them!"

Kael ran.

Tyrus's Sacrifice

The Spire's gates loomed, pulsing with corrupted magic. Tyrus pressed his claw to the stone, gritting his teeth as the parasite's voice returned.

"Traitor," it hissed.

"Guilty," he muttered, and tore the gates apart.

The rebels charged.

Lira's Ascension

The crown's weight was unbearable. Lira screamed as visions tore through her—Nyrisia's coronation, the Council's betrayal, the parasite's first whisper.

"Lira!" Erran tackled her as a golem's fist struck.

The diadem rolled away. "Don't touch it!" she warned.

Too late.

Erran seized the crown—and dissolved, his body unraveling into stardust.

"No!"

The golems knelt.

"All hail," the crown intoned, "the Queen of Ashes."

Kael found her in the observatory, the diadem glowing on her brow.

"Lira…"

She turned. Her eyes were voids, her voice a chorus. "The parasite must die. Even if I become it."

Tyrus appeared in the doorway, breathless. "Dramatic as ever, witch."

The crown's light intensified.

And the sky split open.