Reincarnated as the Last Dragon Egg
Chapter 22: Emberwatch

Chapter 22: Emberwatch

The tomb shook with every breath of the Wyrmfather.

A being older than stars.

He loomed above me, his flame vast and wounded, barely contained. Cracks ran through his molten scales, leaking voidlight—a sign that the Hollowed had already begun their feast.

And now, he offered me the final choice:

> "Take my Core. Let the flame end with you. No more Vaults. No more dragons. No more Hollowed."

Or—

> "Do nothing... and the flame burns the world until only shadow remains."

Behind me, Kaela screamed my name.

But I couldn’t hear her.

Because I wasn’t truly standing in the tomb anymore.

I was in his mind.

---

Memories of Flame

The Wyrmfather showed me everything.

> I saw the First Flame igniting in a world of ice.

The birth of dragons. The rise of the Flameborn.

The rebellion of the gods.

The first Hollowed spark, formed from grief—not greed.

And then...

I saw me.

A dozen versions.

In one, I was a tyrant. In another, a martyr. In some, I was Hollowed. In others, slain before I could even hatch.

But in this version...

I had survived.

Because I had hope.

---

The Voice of Alerya

Suddenly, a voice cut through the visions.

> "Don’t do it."

My head snapped up.

Alerya stood before me—her real self.

Not a memory. Not Hollowed.

Alive.

Her body glowed faintly, tethered by flame.

> "I escaped the Maw," she said. "When you freed Vaelus... something cracked open. And I remembered who I was."

I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.

"Alerya..."

She stepped closer, eyes glowing.

> "If you end the flame, you save the world. But you end us. Forever.

Magic. Soulbond. Rebirth. Gone.

All the love this world was built on—ashes."

> "But if you leave the Wyrmfather alive... he will fall. And the Hollowed will rise."

---

Kaela’s Heart

Then another voice broke through the light.

> "Darian!"

Kaela, burning with light, burst into the vision-plane, her soul tethered to mine.

> "I don’t care what you choose," she shouted.

"Just don’t do it alone."

I stood between the two.

Alerya—my past.

Kaela—my present.

The Wyrmfather—the future.

And I realized—

This wasn’t about choosing death.

Or survival.

It was about defining what flame truly meant.

---

Darian’s Choice

I turned to the Wyrmfather.

"No."

His voice thundered. "No?"

"You said I could end the flame or let it burn."

"Yes."

"But you’re wrong."

I held up the Sunshard Core, now pulsing with golden and white fire.

"I won’t end the flame.

I’ll rewrite it."

---

The Third Flame

I slammed the Core into the Wyrmfather’s chest—into the fracture.

A blinding shockwave tore through the realm.

The Void screamed.

The Hollowed shrieked.

And the flame changed.

No longer just heat.

No longer just hunger.

It became memory, love, rebirth, resolve.

A flame that couldn’t be corrupted.

Because it burned from within.

---

Outside the Tomb

Solin, Neriya, and Kaela watched as the tomb exploded in light.

Bones dissolved.

The stars returned.

And Darian...

Stepped out of the crater.

Eyes glowing.

Wings vast.

Not just Sovereign.

Not just chosen.

He was now the Bearer of the Third Flame.

---

The Hollowed Retreat

Across the world, Hollowed armies collapsed.

Their cores melted.

Their shadows burned.

The Rift Maw sealed shut with a scream.

For now.

---

A New Dawn

Back in Emberwatch, bells rang.

Not for war.

For peace.

The first in a thousand years.

And atop the highest spire stood Darian, Kaela by his side.

She touched his hand. "You did it."

He didn’t smile.

He just looked east—toward the horizon where stars burned anew.

"No," he said. "We did."

The skies were clearer now.

Not entirely free of cloud or shadow—but lighter, softer. The heaviness that had pressed on the world for centuries was gone.

And yet...

The world was quiet in a way that felt wrong.

Because peace, after war, never truly feels real.

---

The Return to Emberwatch

We returned on wings of silence.

The gates of Emberwatch opened wide, and those who remained alive gathered to watch.

Children clung to their mothers.

Flameborn elders bowed low.

And Kaela held my hand—not for strength, but to remind me I was still here.

Still me.

I walked through the ruins of the keep, nodding to soldiers who had fought and bled beside me. No trumpets sounded. No songs were sung.

Just... breath.

And the warmth of flame that didn’t hurt anymore.

---

Solin’s Revelation

Solin sat in the Hall of Light, eyes closed, hands resting in a pool of flickering flame.

He opened them when I entered.

"They’re gone," he said. "The Hollowed?"

I nodded.

"The Rift is sealed. For now."

He looked into the fire.

"But it wasn’t just flame that changed, Darian. It was the world."

"How?"

He turned the flames toward me—and I saw visions.

Mortals casting spells without blood price.

Dragons awakening from stone in faraway lands.

Ancient beasts once thought dead returning to the wind.

"The Third Flame doesn’t just burn," Solin said. "It remembers. It restores."

---

Kaela’s Decision

Later that night, Kaela stood at the edge of the training courtyard, watching young warriors spar.

She looked stronger. Freer. But I knew that fire behind her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

"You’re not staying," I said.

She turned. Smiled.

"Not forever. The Flameborn need to learn. Fight. Lead. But I’m not meant for stillness."

"And me?"

She stepped close.

"You’ll keep the world from burning again. I’ll teach it how not to strike the match."

---

Neriya’s Offer

Neriya returned from the Bone Realms before the week was out.

Her cloak still smelled of ash.

"I’ve seen what’s beyond the Wyrmfather’s tomb," she said. "There are more echoes. Forgotten gods. Broken stars."

"You want me to chase ghosts now?"

She shrugged. "I want you to know. Because what you did didn’t just fix the world..."

She tossed me a blade made of light-forged bone.

"...you woke it."

---

Alerya’s Message

That night, under starlight, I sat alone atop the Spire of Echoes.

The soulstone of Vaelus now rested beside Alerya’s, both flickering gently.

I closed my eyes—and her voice came again.

> "Live, Darian. Not as a weapon. Not as a flame. But as a dragon."

For the first time... I wept.

Because I understood.

I wasn’t reborn to save the world.

I was reborn to remind it what it means to burn bright without destroying everything around you.

---

The Final Ember

As dawn broke, I stood at the edge of the sky, wings stretched, heart calm.

Kaela below.

Solin in meditation.

Neriya already vanished into shadow.

And me?

I looked to the east.

Toward the stars that still flickered strangely.

Then I saw it.

A final ember.

Falling.

Not from fire...

But from space.

---

A whisper echoed in my mind.

> "One flame ends...

Another begins."

The ember struck the ocean at dawn.

Not with fire, but with silence.

No wave. No thunder. No light.

Just stillness.

And when the sky turned blue again, a thin column of mist rose from the point of impact.

Not white. Not grey.

But black.

And it reached for the stars.

---

A Council Reassembled

Days later, the Spire of Flame rang again.

Not with bells—but with summons.

Kaela, newly returned from the Flameborn coast.

Solin, pale and wide-eyed, scrolls in hand.

And me, Darian, Sovereign of the Third Flame... standing before a map that now changed daily.

"The skies are shifting," Solin said, rolling out the latest parchment. "And not from Rift breaches. From above."

Kaela frowned. "The stars?"

"No," Neriya said, stepping from shadow. "Something beyond them."

She threw a shard onto the table. It clinked like glass. The color? Smokeless black, darker than voidflame.

"What is that?" I asked.

Neriya’s voice dropped.

> "It’s not of this world. Not of flame. Not of shadow.

It killed a Watcher."

---

The Watcher’s Death

The Watchers were celestial guardians—great beasts of light that patrolled the boundary between the world and the cosmos.

Untouchable.

Immortal.

Until now.

One had fallen over the Southern Reaches—its corpse now a mountain of starlight glass. Villagers said it had wept as it died.

Not from pain.

From fear.

Its eyes were turned toward the sea—toward where the ember had landed.

---

Dreams from the Deep

That night, I dreamed.

Not of fire.

Of ice.

Endless. Crushing. Empty.

A cold so complete it made the Rift look warm.

And from within that cold...

I saw eyes.

Not Hollowed.

Not divine.

But watching.

> "You have burned too brightly, child of flame," a voice whispered.

"Now the void awakens to extinguish."

I woke with frost on my scales.

---

Journey to the Impact Zone

We left at once—me, Kaela, Solin, and Neriya—guided by the new star maps forming in the sky.

We passed the Blackshore Coast, where flame no longer lit lamps.

We crossed the Sea of Glass, now still and dead.

And when we reached the impact crater...

We found something waiting.

Not a creature.

Not a machine.

A temple.

Made of alien metal, pulsing softly, buried halfway beneath the sea.

And in its center—

A pedestal.

Holding an egg.

---

The Egg of Silence

It didn’t glow.

Didn’t pulse.

Didn’t burn.

But when I approached, the flames inside me dimmed.

Kaela fell to one knee.

Solin gasped, "It’s... draining us."

Neriya hissed, "It’s feeding."

I stepped closer.

And the egg... opened its eye.

A single black slit.

And I heard the word—not spoken.

Etched into my mind.

> "Darian."

---

The First Pulse

The egg shattered.

No explosion.

Just a pulse.

Everything went black for half a second.

And when light returned—

The temple was gone.

So was the sea.

We stood on sand.

Desert.

And above us?

The stars were... different.

Wrong.

Kaela whispered, "Where the hell are we?"

I looked up.

And realized...

We weren’t on our world anymore.