The ancient cathedral held secrets that most Awakened would never come to know.
Ash descended a spiral staircase hidden behind the altar, his footsteps echoing on stone steps worn smooth by centuries of use. The staircase delved into darkness, turning again and again, leading him to depths of the cathedral far older than anything he had seen on the surface.
The air grew denser as he descended. Colder. Heavier.
Finally, he reached the end.
The crypt was a circular chamber with black walls and a vaulted ceiling, illuminated by a light source that seemed to come from nowhere in particular. Two torches hung on the walls, emitting a ghostly blue flame.
Each torch was different from the others, but they shared a common characteristic: the flame burning at their tips was a pale, cold blue that gave off no heat.
Ash approached and took one.
The wood of the torch was rough beneath his fingers, older than any tree he had seen in the realm of dreams. The blue flame flickered at his touch, as if recognizing him, and for a moment Ash felt a chill run down his spine — not from fear, but from something more like anticipation.
He stored the other two in his brown leather bag — you never knew when they might come in handy — and climbed back up the staircase, the blue torch lighting his way with its ghostly glow.
As he exited the cathedral, the perpetual darkness of the Dark City enveloped him like a shroud. Ash raised the torch and watched how the blue flame remained steady, unfazed, as if the wind did not exist for it.
He summoned the Raven.
Blue sparks burst from his outstretched hand, dancing in the air before converging into the metallic figure of the raven. The bird appeared with a mechanical screech that echoed among the empty buildings. Its red eyes gleamed at the sight of the torch, and for a moment Ash could have sworn he saw something like approval in its gaze.
"Let's go," Ash said, climbing onto the raven's back. "We have a tree to burn."
The raven beat its wings and rose toward the gray sky.
---
The journey was quiet and silent.
The Raven flew at a medium altitude, high enough to see the landscape stretching below, low enough for Ash to make out the details. The ruins of the Dark City were quickly left behind, replaced by a gray, dead plain that extended to the horizon.
The only light in that vast darkness was the pale flame of the torch Ash held in his hand. The blue light cast dancing shadows over the raven's surface, making the metal plates seem to glow with an inner radiance.
There was no moon. No stars. Nothing but darkness and flame.
Ash lost track of time.
It could have been two hours. It could have been six. The sky never changed, the landscape never varied, and the only measure of progress was the distance the raven covered with its tireless wings.
At some point, Ash closed his eyes. Not to sleep, but to think.
He remembered the first time he had seen the Soul-Devouring Tree. It had been weeks ago, during an expedition with other Awakened. The tree stood in the middle of a plain of ash, its branches reaching toward the sky like pleading arms, its roots sinking into the dead earth like giant serpents.
And the fruits.
The fruits hanging from its branches were beautiful — red as rubies, bright as fallen stars, each the size of a clenched fist. They looked like apples, but they were not. They were something older, more dangerous, more corrupt.
Fruits that, he had discovered, contained souls.
Souls of fallen Awakened. Souls of devoured Abominations. Souls that the tree had absorbed over the centuries, storing them in its fruits like a macabre pantry.
"There it is," Ash murmured, pointing ahead.
The raven turned slightly, following the indicated direction. In the distance, at the limit of visibility, a shadow darker than night stood out against the horizon.
The Soul-Devouring Tree.
Even from that distance, Ash could feel it. It was a presence that filled the sky, that weighed on the air, that whispered at the edge of consciousness. The fruits hung from its branches like little red suns, their light pulsing faintly to the rhythm of some invisible heart.
The raven dove, its wings folding slightly to gain speed. The wind whistled around Ash, tugging at his cloak, but he remained steady, his right hand gripping the blue torch.
They landed on ash-covered ground.
The plain around the tree was a gray desert, with no trace of life or vegetation. Ash rose in small clouds beneath the raven's feet, floating in the air like black snow before settling again.
Ash jumped from the raven's back, and his boots sank slightly into the gray dust.
"Knight," he said.
He summoned the Black Knight. The living stone armor appeared beside him in a dark flash, its greatsword gleaming with a crimson glow. The knight's eyes burned with pale fire as it scanned the horizon, detecting danger before Ash could even see it.
From the tree's roots, from the shadows that stretched like twisted fingers, shapes began to emerge.
First one. Then five. Then ten. Then an army.
They were Awakened Beasts — abominations of various shapes and sizes, all made from the same twisted substance, all united by a single purpose: to protect the Soul-Devouring Tree at any cost.
Ash counted them quickly. A hundred. Maybe a few more.
It wasn't a negligible number. A hundred Awakened Beasts could have been a challenge for a full team of experienced Awakened. But Ash was not alone.
"Kill them," he ordered.
The Black Steel Raven lunged forward with a deafening screech, its wings spreading to cover as much surface as possible. Lightning began to burst from its feathers, illuminating the ash plain with blue flashes that blinded the creatures.
The Black Knight advanced more slowly but with relentless determination. Its greatsword moved in wide arcs, cutting through flesh and bone as if they were butter. Each strike split entire bodies. Each thrust pierced hearts.
And Ash...
Ash watched.
Not because he couldn't fight, but because he wanted to save his strength for what came next. He let his Echoes do the heavy lifting — that was why he had summoned them, after all — and simply walked behind them, the blue torch held high, his shadow stretching across the ash.
The battle was swift and deadly.
The Awakened Beasts stood no chance. The Raven electrocuted them by the dozens, their charred bodies falling onto the ash in smoking piles. The Knight tore them apart one by one, its greatsword clinking with the creatures' black blood.
In less than ten minutes, it was all over.
The hundred abominations lay dead, their bodies scattered across the plain like broken toys. The ash was stained black, and the air smelled of burning and rot.
Ash walked among the corpses, his boots stepping over fragments of bone and flesh, until he reached the edge of the area where the tree's roots began.
Ash looked at the gigantic tree. He could feel its influence trying to convince him it was harmless, that its wonderful fruits could strengthen him continuously, that it could be useful.
Ash dismissed the tree's influence as he had done in the past. That thing was an abomination, nothing more.
"A long time ago," he began to speak in a calm tone.
"I promised that one day I would return to end your life..." Ash's smile spread slowly across his face.
"Today I have come to fulfill that promise. I don't know if an hell exists in this world, but if it does, tell the ferryman that Ashfall sends his regards."
The tree tried to convince him not to do it, to let it live, but he had already dismissed it.
He knelt before the thickest roots — each as thick as a man's torso, writhing over the ash like petrified serpents — and placed the blue torch at the point where wood met earth.
The flame touched the root.
And the world caught fire.
The blue fire spread through the roots like a torrent, flowing through the wood with impossible speed. It climbed the trunk, leaped to the branches, scaled the highest canopies. The red fruits began to burn one after another, each bursting in a small explosion of light as the souls trapped inside were finally released.
The tree screamed.
It was not a sound that Ash heard with his ears, but with something deeper — a vibration in the air, a tremor in the earth, a convulsion in the very fabric of reality. It was a scream of agony, of fury, of despair. A tree that had lived for centuries, perhaps millennia, burning in blue flames that could not be extinguished.
Ash stood and stepped back a few paces.
He watched how the blaze grew, how the titanic tree was consumed from within, how the blue light illuminated the darkness of the plain with a terrible beauty. Shadows danced around him, cast by flames that gave off no heat but consumed everything.
The Raven and the Black Knight positioned themselves at his sides, flanking him like silent guardians. The raven cawed softly, a sound Ash interpreted as approval. The knight remained motionless, its greatsword resting on the ground, its pale eyes reflecting the flames.
Ash watched as the tree burned.
He watched how the trunk cracked, how the charred wood crumbled, how the entire structure began to collapse upon itself, how those fruits exploded one after another, leaving nothing but a nauseating stench in the air.
And as he watched, a quiet smile formed on his lips.
Not the smile of madness he had shown during the battle at the Forgotten Coast. Not the maniacal smile from when he massacred abominations in his sea of mist. It was a calmer smile, more satisfied.
He watched for a long time until finally, the tree had died.
[You have killed a Fallen Terror: Soul-Devouring Tree]
[You have obtained a Memory]
Ash walked over the charred remains of the Soul Tree, collecting six bright soul fragments which he stored in his spatial memory.
Returning to the Steel Raven, he dismissed the Black Knight. Once he climbed aboard, he set course for his next destination — it was time to go to the Chained Isles to look for certain things.
But for now, his revenge had finally been fulfilled.