The Flame that Lies

We continued our journey north — just as the Compass pointed.

That was when we met the man.

Or what was left of one.

He stood alone at a crossroads where the trees had been scorched to their roots. Charcoal branches stretched skyward like pleading arms. The earth beneath our feet was cracked with heat. Not fresh, but recent enough for us to feel the heat with our feet and for the smell of soot to linger.

He wore the tattered robes of a priest or a rebel commander — hard to tell which. Symbols of faith burned away, replaced by sigils etched in ash. His skin was pale, marked with veins that glowed faintly red. His eyes were worse: twin cinders burning cold, like someone placed a burning piece of coal inside his sockets.

Sakura stopped first. Her hand clutched the Temporal Vow, her finger running along its cracked edges.

"He's been touched," she said. "But not consumed."

"Touched by what?" I asked cautiously. No answer came.

Kazuha drew Stillveil slowly, the sash wrapping around her protectively.

The Compass, well.. I don't expect anything much from it anymore to be honest, combat-wise.

I stepped forward before either of them could strike. "Who are you?"

The man perked up, head tilting like a curious bird. His voice was hoarse, like his throat dried up, or hot ash was shoved down his throat.

"We are the Broken Enlightened. Branded by her flame. Freed by it."

"Her?" I asked in confusion.

"No," Kazuha murmured softly. "Impossible."

"Yunjin," Sakura breathed.

He smiled.

"She burned away the veil. Showed us truth: Peace is cowardice. Forgiveness is hypocrisy. Mercy is betrayal. Passion is unnecessary. Emotions are sacrilege — the highest form of impurity." He took a step closer. I held my ground, my hands wrapped around my daggers.

"This is not Yunjin's philosophy," Kazuha observed with a look of disgust.

"She speaks still, through us. The Seraph of Scorched Truth," the old man wailed.

I glanced at Kazuha. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes locked on the man with something too deep for rage.

"Yunjin wasn't like this," she said.

"No," Sakura murmured. "She was fire with purpose. Now..."

"Now she sees clearly," the man whispered. "She remembers who left her. Who turned away. Who said 'enough' when justice needed fury." He looked at the two Fallen beside me, as if emphasizing them. "There is no greater betrayal than those committed by her sisters." He growled.

"We didn't..." Sakura began.

"We fell.. together.." Kazuha stuttered

"Did you? And yet, she burned.. she burned alone... even now..." The man said with a gentleness unbecoming of his words, like he pities Yunjin.

He turned his eyes to me.

"And you. The Compass-bearer. The tether of balance. It will burn in her presence."

"Blightflame." The Compass buzzed at my side. Quietly, then louder. Like it couldn’t decide whether to scream or run. I ran a hand over it, hoping it recognizes the gesture of comfort.

"You're wrong," I said. "Truth isn't rage. It doesn't need fire to be heard."

His eyes narrowed.

"And yet you carry weapons. You kill to survive. How many Wraiths did you kill in your journey? Do you even know why you're killing?"

"They would've killed me!"

"Just like how they killed your family." He bit back, and memories flood my mind once again — bloodied claws, a sword steaming with mud, or is it brown blood. I pressed a palm on my temples as I fell on one knee, reeling from the memories I chose to suppress.

The Fallen looked at me in confusion, curiosity, and realization. Sakura in particular looked at me with sheer compassion.

"You kill for revenge," the man continued. "Revenge is Her Domain, for what is vengeance if not passion unleashed! You woke her up the moment you killed your first Wraith in rage." His revelation hit like a truck, more to the Fallen rather than to mine.

The first Wraith I killed was the day I woke up on the banks of Lake Aldaria. It ambushed me in the forest as I walked east — the direction the Compass told me to go. My body went on auto pilot and before I knew it, it dissolved in a puddle of steaming brown blood upon my feet, my daggers stained with the same substance.

"She was already awake?" Sakura murmured.

"Then why was I the first—?" Kazuha muttered.

The man was not done.

"And yet, for all the Wraiths you killed, you know one can take you out eventually. So you hide behind her" — he nodded at Kazuha — "because you trust her strength. But not her heart."

That pierced something.

Stillveil recoiled.

Kazuha flinched.

"Enough," she said sharply.

But the man started walking forward. Sakura moved beside me, her hand glowing gold with temporal shimmer. I drew my blades.

"I see betrayal forming already," he said, laughing softly. "The Flame does not lie. It shows what we refuse to admit."

Then, he struck.

Ash erupted from his fingertips. Not fire — Blightfire. Cold. Gray. It didn’t burn flesh.