The bell rang.
Again.
Only this time, the room didn't laugh.
The threads didn't wiggle.
Even Rolan the mannequin stopped mid-flex.
Because it was her.
Thenaia stepped inside, robes tighter today, as if trying to wrap herself tighter around whatever memory had been keeping her still.
She paused mid-step when her eyes landed on Ren.
THENAIA (low whisper to Marra):
"You told him about Ashrunner?"
MARRA (sipping tea, not even blinking):
"He found the name like a cat finds knives.
He knows. Mostly out of spite."
REN (raising a hand):
"Still in the room. Still confused.
Also still haunted by that time I pooped in public, so please don't pile on."
Thenaia walked past him carefully, like she was still deciding if he was real.
She placed a dark leather scroll on the center table.
It opened on its own.
The text was burned into the parchment like it didn't want to be read — just feared.
THENAIA (quietly):
"He's collecting them.
Fifteen of them."
REN (peering over her shoulder):
"Fifteen what?"
THENAIA:
"Crestflare.
Emblems of mastery.
Each one tied to an individual who shapes part of Virelya."
LANNIC (cutting in):
"If he gets them all, he can summon the God of Destruction."
REN (going pale):
"Cool.
So just to recap — I've been here, what, two days?
Fought a beast, pooped in soup, met a vampire, and now we're throwing in fifteen crests to summon a death god?"
MARRA (calm as a rainstorm):
"Welcome to Virelya. Tea's on the shelf. Reality's on fire."
Ren stared at the scroll again.
The ink pulsed.
Or maybe his brain did.
REN (blinking):
"What is a Crestflare exactly? And why the hell would anyone want all of them?"
LANNIC (turning toward him suddenly):
"Do you believe in gods?"
The room went quiet.
REN (after a long pause):
"…Is this a trick question?
Because the only god I've met so far is a soup that nearly ended me."
MARRA (stepping forward now):
"Let me show you."
She raised her palm.
And it appeared.
A flame — but not of fire.
A threaded glyph, burning between orange, gold, and violet, hovering just above her skin like it was stitched from divine breath.
It looked like a sun folded in half, with small runes orbiting it like moons caught in flame.
MARRA:
"This is a Crestflare.
Each one unique.
Each one earned, not found."
REN (mesmerized):
"So it's like a badge?"
MARRA (coolly):
"It's like wearing a part of the world's soul.
It grants influence. Magic. Command over things that don't obey laws anymore."
REN (turning toward Lannic):
"You got one?"
LANNIC (casually):
"No. I… declined it."
REN:
"Why?"
LANNIC (smirking faintly):
"Because I already carry enough weight.
I'm a Deliverer. I don't wield the world. I carry its pieces."
THENAIA:
"And Ashrunner wants all fifteen.
Every single one.
Even if it means killing those who bear them."
Ren backed up a step.
The scroll still glowed.
And somewhere, something on it pulsed in time with his heart.