Ashen was no longer just a village. It had become a symbol—a rallying cry. From burned towns and broken roads, the scattered people of Avalon came, bearing stories of destruction and loss. But beneath the grief, something else simmered: resolve.
Ethan stood on the northern watchtower, overlooking the horizon where a caravan approached. Flags fluttered—white cloth with hand-painted sigils from distant villages. Makeshift, but unmistakable.
They were coming.
To fight.
Over the next week, leaders from nine villages gathered in Ashen. Most of them had suffered at the hands of the Serpent Court. A few had resisted silently. One—Torin of Elmere—arrived bruised and bloodied, his village reduced to smoldering ruins just days prior.
They met in the new council hall, beneath the banner of Ashen.
Ethan led the assembly, Lyra beside him. Tavren served as the scribe. Mira, armed and vigilant, stood near the door.
"No more waiting," Ethan began. "No more hiding. The Serpent Court is consolidating its power with violence. We answer with unity."
He unrolled a map marked with red lines and smudges of ash.
"We form a defensive ring. We build outposts. We train fighters. Ashen will be the heart, but we need eyes in the mountains, scouts in the forests, and fast messengers along the rivers."
Torin spoke first, voice raw. "You've built walls. We have none. Will your gates be open if they come for us?"
Ethan didn't hesitate. "They already are."
Another leader, a woman named Keira of Morvain, crossed her arms. "What makes you so sure you can stop them? You're not from Avalon."
He met her gaze. "No. But I chose to stay. And I'll die here if I have to."
That was enough.
The Pact of Nine Fires was signed—nine villages pledging men, supplies, and intelligence to the cause. For the first time in generations, Avalon's forgotten people had something close to a nation.
With the pact made, Ethan moved quickly.
He opened his stores—Earth tools, armor plating, tactical gear reworked for Avalonian needs. The blacksmiths of Ashen took his blueprints and began forging new weapons: curved swords with tempered steel, reinforced crossbows, and spears with bladed ends designed for rapid manufacture.
Ethan trained the first group of fighters himself.
He called them the Ember Guard—named for the fire that had nearly destroyed Ashen, and the flame that now fueled its rise.
Lyra drilled them in formation. Mira taught them stealth and survival. Even Tavren joined in, adapting old military tactics from ancient texts for their growing army.
It wasn't just about defense.
They were preparing for war.
One night, as Ethan worked alone in the forge, sharpening a newly finished blade, he saw it again—the flicker at the edge of time.
The heat of the fire warped the room, and in its dance, a figure appeared—the shadowy form from before, robed in swirling void, eyes burning like twin galaxies.
The God of Creation.
"You build," the voice said. "And with every stone, you bind yourself further."
Ethan stepped forward. "I'm not afraid of being bound."
"No," the figure replied. "But the more you shape the world, the more the world shapes you."
The forge dimmed. Ethan blinked, and now they stood beneath stars—an endless sky with a tree at the center, vast and ancient, its leaves humming with energy.
"The Serpent Court seeks not just power," the god continued, "but the roots of time. They want the Tree. And so do others."
"Others?"
The god turned, shadows stretching into infinite paths.
"You are not the only walker. And not all who cross worlds seek peace."
Ethan's heart sank.
Before he could ask more, the vision vanished.
And he was alone again.
At dawn, word arrived: the Serpent Court was on the move again. A thousand strong, headed for the central valley, burning villages as they marched.
Ethan called a war council.
"They're baiting us," Mira warned. "Drawing us into the open."
Lyra paced, fists clenched. "We can't sit back. Not now."
Tavren set down a scroll. "Then we fight—but not as scattered forces. We strike together."
Ethan nodded. "We don't wait for the war to come to us."
He pointed to the map.
"We take the fight to them."