The Citadel of Ash loomed ominously in the distance, its massive, jagged silhouette standing out against the fiery orange and red hues of the sunset. The twisted landscape around it was barren, littered with charred trees and scorched earth, remnants of battles long forgotten. The citadel's towering spires and rugged stone walls were cloaked in thick moss and creeping vines, lending it an ancient, almost mystical aura. Shadows lengthened as the sun sank lower, stretching across the cracked stone path that led to the citadel's entrance like dark fingers.
Inside the citadel, silence reigned, broken only by the occasional drip of water seeping through the stone walls and the whispering of unseen winds. The torches mounted along the walls flickered weakly, casting faint light that barely reached the far corners of the massive stone corridors. Shadows danced, shifting and stretching, and a faint, sulfurous smell permeated the air, mingling with the metallic tang of old blood—a testament to the battles and sacrifices that had once defined this place.
Three goblins crept through the darkened hallways, their footsteps barely audible as they navigated the maze-like corridors. Mo, the self-proclaimed leader of the trio, was a scrappy goblin with a crooked nose and a wild gleam in his eyes. He led his companions, Fo and Bo, further into the citadel with a sense of purpose and determination, though his twitchy glances betrayed a hint of fear.
"This place is ancient, probably filled with treasures no one's touched in centuries," Mo muttered, his voice tinged with excitement. His fingers traced the rough stone walls, and he imagined the riches hidden just beyond the next corner.
"Are you sure about this, Mo?" Bo, the youngest and smallest of the group, clutched his makeshift dagger tightly, his voice barely a whisper. "This place feels… wrong. What if there's something guarding it?"
Mo scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't be such a coward, Bo. There's no one left here! If there was, they'd have thrown us out by now."
Fo, the most optimistic of the group, grinned and nudged Bo. "Come on, don't be a scaredy-cat! Think about it—if we find even a sliver or gold, we'll be rich! The king will reward us, maybe even make us generals or something."
The idea seemed to bolster Bo's courage, and he gave a hesitant nod, though he kept glancing around nervously, as if expecting something to leap out from the shadows.
As they ventured deeper, they entered a massive chamber bathed in a faint crimson glow. The walls were adorned with faded murals depicting scenes of fire and fury, battles fought between beings of immense power. Towers of flame rose up from the painted ground, and warriors clad in red armor battled monstrous creatures that seemed to emerge from the very earth itself. The murals seemed alive, as if the flames were on the verge of leaping from the stone.
In the center of the chamber lay an enormous coffin, intricately carved with symbols that pulsed faintly in the dim light. It was surrounded by twisted iron sconces, their flames flickering as if in response to the intruders' presence. Dust clung to the coffin's surface, but beneath the grime, one could see the delicate craftsmanship, the ancient symbols etched into the stone telling tales of a forgotten time.
Mo's eyes widened, his greed momentarily giving way to awe. "Look at this… This has to be the tomb of someone important. Maybe a king!"
Fo's eyes sparkled with excitement as he nudged Mo. "Imagine what's inside! If we take whatever he's buried with, we'll be heroes!"
But Bo felt an icy shiver crawl up his spine. "I… I don't think we should touch it. What if it's cursed?"
Mo shot him an irritated look. "Curse or not, treasure is treasure. If you're scared, stay back and watch."
Without waiting for a response, Mo stepped up to the coffin, placing both hands on the heavy stone lid. His fingers tingled with anticipation as he pushed, grunting with effort. "Help me, you fools! This thing's heavy!"
Reluctantly, Bo and Fo joined him, and together, they heaved the lid open, their breaths labored as it scraped against the stone. The lid slid off with a dull thud, revealing the figure within.
Inside the coffin lay a man, his form perfectly preserved, his face serene as if he were merely asleep. He was clad in magnificent armor, deep crimson with intricate red etchings that shimmered faintly. His eyes were closed, and a faint aura of warmth seemed to radiate from his body, filling the chamber with an almost comforting heat. His hands rested on a massive, ornate sword, its blade still gleaming as though freshly forged.
The goblins stared, speechless. Mo's mind raced as he calculated the worth of the armor alone. "This… this has to be worth a fortune," he whispered, unable to contain his excitement.
Fo nodded eagerly. "Imagine the king's face when we bring him this! We'll be legends!"
But Bo's dread only deepened as he looked at the figure's face. There was something about him that seemed… alive. A nagging sense of foreboding crept over him, and he took a step back, his instincts screaming for him to run.
Mo, however, was undeterred. "Let's start with the sword. If we bring back something this impressive, they'll make us royalty!"
Reaching forward, Mo's fingers brushed against the hilt of the sword.
The moment his skin made contact, the sword pulsed with a violent red light, and the figure's eyes snapped open, glowing like twin embers. A powerful wave of heat washed over the chamber, and the goblins staggered back, shielding their faces.
Panic seized Mo as the man sat up, his fiery gaze fixing on the intruders. "We… we didn't mean to—"
In a flash, Ashfall's hand shot out, seizing Mo by the throat and lifting him effortlessly into the air. Mo's legs kicked helplessly as he gasped for breath, his hands clawing at the iron grip around his neck.
Ashfall's voice was a low growl, each word dripping with contempt. "You have tresspased and disturbed my slumber, you shall be punished"
Fo, in a blind rush of courage, grabbed a rusty dagger and charged at Ashfall, screaming. "Let him go, you monster!"
Ashfall's eyes flicked to Fo, a flicker of disdain crossing his face. He released Mo, who crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, and caught Fo's dagger mid-swing. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the dagger in two and delivered a swift, brutal punch to Fo's chest. The goblin collapsed instantly, his body limp and lifeless.
Bo, frozen with terror, backed away, his legs shaking uncontrollably. "P-Please… we didn't know…"
Ashfall rose fully from the coffin, his towering form casting a long shadow over the trembling goblin. "Ignorance does not absolve you."
He extended his hand, and flames began to gather in his palm, swirling and crackling with an intensity that made the air around them shimmer. The entire chamber seemed to come alive with fire, the torches flaring brighter, casting fierce shadows that danced in rhythm with Ashfall's rising fury.
Bo turned to flee, his heart pounding in terror. But before he could reach the exit, Ashfall's voice rang out, a single, devastating command. "Burn."
In an instant, flames erupted from the ground, encircling Bo in a vortex of searing heat. He screamed, thrashing and clawing at the air, but the flames were relentless, consuming him in moments. His final, desperate cries echoed through the chamber before fading into silence, leaving only the crackling of the fire.
As the citadel's stones absorbed the inferno, Ashfall stood alone, his crimson eyes blazing with an unearthly light. The goblins' ashes drifted around him, carried on the scorching winds, their intrusion punished by the wrath of the Warden of Flames.
His gaze swept over the chamber, lingering on the remnants of the intruders. Shifting his cold gaze and calming down.