The Flamekeeper

Darius and Elara meet with the Keeper to get answers. Daily Flash Fiction Entry.

The room they were led into sparkled like a dragon’s hoard.

Golden coins spilled from stone bowls, money piled so high it looked more like sand than treasure. Crystals jutted out from the walls in strange shapes, glowing with soft light. Hanging from the ceiling were delicate strands of feathers, dyed vibrant blues and purples, swaying in the air as if moved by an unseen breeze.

Darius stared. “I think we found the Flamekeeper’s vault.”

Elara raised an eyebrow, stepping cautiously over a trail of rocks embedded in the floor, leading to a circular platform in the center. “Either that or someone has an unhealthy obsession with shiny things.”

They made their way forward, boots echoing on the polished stone, until they stood before the platform. As they approached, the rocks began to pulse faintly beneath their feet, each one lighting up in succession.

“That can’t be good,” Darius muttered.

Suddenly, the room shifted. Feathers fell in slow motion, the money piles rumbled, and a figure appeared on the platform; cloaked in red and gold, face masked in carved obsidian.

The Flamekeeper.

“You’ve come far,” the figure said. Their voice was neither male nor female, but something ancient, something heavy with power. “But tell me; what do you seek? Riches? Revenge? Redemption?”

Elara crossed her arms. “We’re not here for treasure.”

Darius hesitated. “We’re here for answers.”

The Flamekeeper tilted their head. “Then leave the gold untouched. Pass through with clean hands, and I will show you the truth.”

A beat passed.

Darius glanced at the mounds of glittering coins. “Just...how clean are we talking?”

Elara elbowed him. “Don’t even think about it.”

As they stepped onto the platform, the light intensified, and the rocks beneath them began to hum like a song only the worthy could hear.