The Ash Road stretched before them like a wounded memory — long, winding, and fractured in places where the world itself seemed to forget how to hold shape. Mist drifted low across the forest floor, curling around their ankles like cautious fingers. The towering ash trees loomed overhead, their spiraling bark glowing faintly with fading light.

Maxius stepped forward first, his boots sinking softly into the moss‑lined path. His ash‑wood token pulsed against his chest, responding to the realm’s quiet distress.

Brinrose walked beside him, emberlight flickering gently. “This place feels… heavy.”

Maxius nodded. “The Ash Roads carry the weight of every story ever walked upon them. When they weaken, the stories weaken too.”

Elira brushed her fingers along a low‑hanging branch. The bark felt warm, but the glow beneath it flickered like a dying ember. “It’s like the trees are trying to speak.”

“They are,” Maxius said softly. “They always have.”

Elias studied the spiraling patterns carved into the trunks. “These markings… they’re not just decorative. They’re conduits.”

Maxius smiled faintly. “You see quickly.”

Beast snorted. “He sees too much.”

Elias ignored him. “The spirals channel energy through the forest. If they’re dimming—”

“The whole realm is dimming,” Maxius finished.

A soft whisper drifted through the trees.

Not wind.

Not leaves.

A voice.

Elira froze. “Did you hear that?”

Brinrose stepped closer, emberlight brightening. “It sounded like… a child.”

Maxius’s expression tightened. “The forest echoes memories. But lately… the echoes have been wrong.”

Beast’s flames rose. “Wrong how.”

Maxius didn’t answer.

Instead, he knelt beside a section of the road where the path flickered like a broken reflection. The edges crumbled into drifting ash, dissolving into the mist.

Brinrose crouched beside him. “It’s unraveling.”

Maxius touched the ash gently. “This used to be a strong path. One of the oldest. It connected the Circle’s heart to the northern villages.”

Elias frowned. “What caused the break?”

Maxius hesitated — just long enough for the Spiralbound to notice.

Elira stepped closer. “Maxius… what aren’t you saying.”

He exhaled slowly. “The corruption didn’t start here. It started deeper in the forest. Near the Ash Heart.”

Beast crossed his arms. “And you didn’t mention that earlier because…”

Maxius met his gaze steadily. “Because the Ash Heart is sacred. And dangerous. And if it’s failing… then my realm is closer to collapse than I wanted to admit.”

Brinrose placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to face it alone.”

Maxius’s jaw tightened. “I know. That’s why I’m grateful you came.”

The forest whispered again — louder this time.

A soft, trembling voice.

Help…

Elira’s wings flared. “That wasn’t an echo.”

Elias’s breathlight surged. “Something’s close.”

Beast stepped forward, flames rising. “Show yourself.”

The mist thickened, swirling into a shape — small, trembling, barely holding form. A child’s silhouette flickered into existence, made of ash and fading light.

Brinrose gasped. “A spirit echo.”

Maxius’s eyes widened. “No… not an echo. A memory fragment.”

The child‑shape reached toward them, its voice breaking like static.

Help… the roads… breaking…

Elira knelt, wings glowing softly. “We’re here. We’ll help you.”

The fragment flickered violently, its form distorting. The spirals carved into the nearby trees dimmed further, reacting to the child’s distress.

Elias stepped closer, breathlight steady. “It’s destabilizing.”

Maxius’s voice dropped to a whisper. “This is what I feared.”

Beast growled. “What’s happening to it.”

Maxius swallowed hard. “The corruption is consuming memories. Stories. Lives. The Ash Roads don’t just guide travelers — they preserve the past. When they break… the past breaks with them.”

The child‑fragment convulsed, its form glitching like a torn page.

Brinrose reached out, emberlight flowing from her palm. “Hold on—”

The fragment screamed — a sound of pure fear — and shattered into drifting ash.

Elira gasped. “No—”

The ash scattered across the road, dissolving into the mist.

Silence fell.

Heavy.

Cold.

Maxius bowed his head. “That child… that memory… it’s gone.”

Elias clenched his fists. “The corruption isn’t just damaging the realm. It’s erasing it.”

Beast’s flames surged. “Then we stop it.”

Maxius looked up, eyes burning with quiet resolve. “The Ash Heart is where it began. And where it must end.”

Brinrose nodded. “Then that’s where we go.”

Elira stepped forward, wings glowing. “Lead the way.”

Maxius turned toward the deeper forest, where the trees grew darker, the spirals dimmer, and the mist thicker.

“The Ash Heart lies ahead,” he said. “But the path won’t be easy.”

Beast smirked. “Good.”

Elias stepped beside him. “We’re Spiralbound. We don’t take easy paths.”

Maxius smiled — small, grateful, determined.

“Then let’s walk this one together.”

The forest whispered again — not in fear this time, but in recognition.

The Spiralbound stepped forward.

And the Ash Road trembled beneath their feet, waiting for what came next.

The Ash Road narrowed as they moved deeper into the forest, the trees growing taller, older, and more tightly packed. Their spiraling bark glowed faintly, but the light flickered like a candle fighting the wind. The mist thickened, swirling around their legs in restless currents.

Maxius walked ahead, his ash‑wood token glowing brighter with every step. “The forest is trying to guide us… but it’s confused.”

Brinrose stepped beside him, emberlight warming the air. “Confused how.”

Maxius touched a nearby trunk. The spiral carved into the bark pulsed weakly, then dimmed. “The trees remember every traveler who’s ever walked these roads. But now their memories are tangled. Broken.”

Elias studied the spirals with narrowed eyes. “Like corrupted data.”

Maxius nodded. “Exactly. But these memories aren’t just information. They’re alive.”

Elira’s wings brushed the mist. “And something is killing them.”

Beast growled low. “Then we find it and burn it out.”

Maxius didn’t argue — but his jaw tightened.

They continued forward, the forest growing darker with each step. The spirals carved into the trees shifted from soft green to a sickly gray, their glow fading entirely in some places. The air grew colder, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something metallic.

Brinrose shivered. “It feels wrong here.”

Maxius slowed. “We’re close to the first fracture.”

Elias raised a hand, breathlight brightening. “I sense something ahead.”

Beast’s flames rose instinctively. “Good. I’m tired of walking.”

Elira shot him a look. “Patience.”

Beast smirked. “Not my specialty.”

The path curved sharply, leading them into a clearing where the Ash Road simply… ended.

The ground ahead was torn open, roots ripped from the earth, spirals carved into the soil shattered like broken glass. A dark stain spread across the ground — not liquid, not shadow, but something in between. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat gone wrong.

Brinrose inhaled sharply. “What is that.”

Maxius stepped forward slowly. “The first wound.”

Elira’s wings tightened. “It looks alive.”

“It is,” Maxius said quietly. “Or it was.”

Elias knelt beside the stain, breathlight illuminating the edges. “This isn’t natural. It’s not even from this realm.”

Maxius nodded. “I know.”

Beast crossed his arms. “You’re hiding something.”

Maxius didn’t deny it.

He stepped closer to the wound, the ash token glowing fiercely now. “This corruption… it didn’t appear on its own. It followed something. Or someone.”

Brinrose’s emberlight dimmed. “Someone brought it here.”

Maxius closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Elira stepped forward, voice soft. “Who.”

Maxius opened his eyes — and the pain in them was unmistakable.

“My brother.”

Silence fell like a dropped stone.

Elias’s breathlight flickered. “Your brother caused this.”

Maxius shook his head. “Not intentionally. He was a Wanderer too. Strong. Brave. But he strayed from the Ash Roads. He followed a shadow into the deep forest… and he didn’t come back.”

Brinrose touched his arm gently. “I’m sorry.”

Maxius swallowed hard. “When he returned… he wasn’t the same. Something followed him. Something that fed on fear, memory, and story. It used him to enter our realm.”

Beast’s flames surged. “Where is he now.”

Maxius looked at the torn earth. “Lost. Consumed. Or hiding. I don’t know.”

Elira stepped closer to him. “We’ll help you find him.”

Maxius’s voice cracked. “I don’t know if he can be saved.”

Elias stood, breathlight steady. “Then we save the realm first.”

Maxius nodded slowly. “Yes. The Ash Heart is where the corruption is strongest. If we can purify it… the roads may heal.”

Beast stepped forward, flames blazing. “Then let’s move.”

But before they could take another step, the ground beneath the wound trembled.

The stain pulsed.

The spirals carved into the trees flickered violently.

And something rose from the torn earth.

A shape.

A shadow.

A memory twisted into something monstrous.

It had no face — only a hollow void where eyes should be, spiraling inward like a vortex. Its limbs were long and jagged, made of splintered roots and broken stories. It moved with a stuttering, glitching motion, like a corrupted echo trying to hold form.

Brinrose gasped. “What is that.”

Maxius’s voice was barely a whisper. “A memory eater.”

Elias’s breathlight flared. “It’s feeding on the forest.”

Elira’s wings ignited with golden light. “Then we stop it.”

Beast stepped forward, flames roaring. “Finally.”

The creature shrieked — a sound like a child crying and a tree splitting and a memory dying all at once.

Maxius drew a blade from his pack — simple, worn, but glowing with ash‑light. “Stay close. It twists the road around it.”

Elias nodded. “Then we anchor each other.”

Brinrose’s emberlight surged. “Together.”

Elira’s wings spread wide. “Spiralbound.”

Beast grinned. “Let’s end this.”

The creature lunged.

And the Spiralbound charged to meet it.