The landscape shifted as Rashid, Safiya, Malik, and the rest of the company pressed on. The Valley of Ashes was behind them, but the Eternal Flame's pull was ever-present, a subtle hum beneath Rashid’s skin. It whispered, coaxing him toward an uncertain future. Despite surviving the flame’s judgment, Rashid knew that he had only scratched the surface of its power.

Ahead, the charred remnants of an ancient city sprawled out like a graveyard, its ruins a testament to a once-great civilization that had been obliterated by the flames.

"Is this the city of the Flamebearers?" Safiya asked, her voice tinged with awe as they crossed into the city's borders. The once-grand structures were now crumbling husks, consumed by time and the fire that had ravaged the land.

Rashid nodded slowly. "It has to be. This is where the first seekers of the Eternal Flame made their stand—and where they met their doom."

The ground beneath their feet was unstable, cracked by centuries of heat. The air grew colder, despite the ever-present heat of the flame, and there was an eerie stillness that clung to the ruined city. Rashid felt as though the souls of the fallen Flamebearers still lingered here, watching them from the shadows.

As they ventured deeper into the city, Malik came to a sudden stop. "Look there," he said, pointing toward the center of the ruins.

At the heart of the city stood a massive obelisk, untouched by time or flame. Carved into its surface were intricate symbols and markings, ancient and indecipherable. The obelisk pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, drawing them closer.

Rashid approached the obelisk cautiously. The whispers in his mind grew louder as he neared it, and the air around them seemed to ripple with power.

“This is it,” Rashid murmured, placing his hand on the cold stone. “The final resting place of the Flamebearers. This obelisk contains their knowledge, their history... their mistakes.”

Safiya frowned. “If they were the first to seek the Eternal Flame, what happened to them? Why did their civilization fall?”

Rashid closed his eyes, allowing the energy of the obelisk to flow through him. Visions flashed before his eyes—images of the Flamebearers, their city vibrant and alive, their leaders wielding the power of the Eternal Flame to build an empire that stretched across the land.

But the power they wielded was too great, and it came at a terrible cost. Rashid saw the Flamebearers turn against one another, consumed by their desire for more power. The Eternal Flame, once their ally, became their destroyer. The city was torn apart in a cataclysm of fire and blood.

“Their greed destroyed them,” Rashid said, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. “They tried to control the flame, to bend it to their will. But the flame cannot be controlled—it consumes all who seek to dominate it.”

Malik crossed his arms, his expression grim. “Then what makes you think you can succeed where they failed?”

Rashid opened his eyes, meeting Malik’s gaze. “Because I’m not trying to control it. I’m trying to understand it. The Flamebearers wanted power for themselves. I want to use it to save my kingdom.”

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As Rashid and his companions examined the obelisk, Safiya noticed something strange—a section of the carvings was slightly different from the rest, as if it had been added long after the obelisk was first created.

“Rashid, look at this,” she said, tracing her fingers over the symbols. “It’s a warning, written by someone who came after the Flamebearers.”

Rashid joined her, his eyes scanning the ancient text. The symbols were unlike anything he had seen before, but with the power of the Eternal Flame, he could understand their meaning.

“It’s a message,” he said slowly, translating the symbols in his mind. “A warning from someone who tried to follow in the Flamebearers’ footsteps. They sought the Eternal Flame, but they realized too late that it was a curse, not a blessing.”

The message spoke of a hidden power buried deep beneath the city—an artifact known as the Ashen Crown. The Flamebearers had created it in their final days, believing it would give them control over the Eternal Flame and save them from destruction. But the Ashen Crown had only hastened their downfall, amplifying the flame’s power to uncontrollable levels.

“The Ashen Crown...” Malik muttered, rubbing his chin. “If it’s still here, it could be the key to understanding the flame’s true nature. Or it could be the thing that destroys us all.”

Rashid’s mind raced. The Ashen Crown was a dangerous relic, but it was also an opportunity. If he could find it, he might be able to unlock the full potential of the Eternal Flame without succumbing to its curse. But the risks were immense.

“We have to find it,” Rashid said, determination burning in his eyes. “If the Ashen Crown holds the key to mastering the flame, we can’t leave it buried here. Not when the fate of Morocco hangs in the balance.”

Safiya looked uneasy. “And if the crown is too dangerous to control? What then?”

Rashid’s voice was firm. “Then we destroy it.”

The obelisk’s warning led them to the entrance of an underground chamber, hidden deep beneath the city. The path was long forgotten, sealed away by the remnants of the Flamebearers, but Rashid’s connection to the flame allowed him to sense its presence.

As they descended into the chamber, the air grew colder, and the light from the Eternal Flame in Rashid’s heart seemed to dim. The chamber was a labyrinth of dark tunnels, lined with ancient symbols and traps left behind by the Flamebearers to keep intruders out.

The further they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. Rashid could feel the weight of the Ashen Crown’s power pressing down on him, a dark energy that threatened to consume them all. His companions, too, were affected. Malik’s normally steady hand trembled on the hilt of his sword, and Safiya’s usually sharp senses dulled as the darkness closed in around them.

“We’re close,” Rashid said, his voice strained as he pushed forward. “I can feel it.”

At last, they reached the heart of the chamber—a vast underground hall, its walls covered in blackened ash. At the center of the hall, resting on a pedestal of molten rock, was the Ashen Crown.

The crown was made of twisted metal, charred and blackened by the flame. It pulsed with a dark energy, casting an eerie glow over the chamber. Rashid felt its power immediately, a heavy weight that pressed against his mind.

“This is it,” Rashid whispered, approaching the crown cautiously. “The key to unlocking the Eternal Flame’s full potential.”

Malik stepped forward, his face pale. “Are you sure about this, Rashid? The obelisk warned us—this thing destroyed the Flamebearers. What makes you think it’ll be any different for us?”

Rashid hesitated, staring at the crown. He could feel its power, its temptation. It promised him everything he needed—strength, control, the power to save Morocco and crush his enemies.

But it also whispered of destruction, of a hunger that could never be satisfied.

“We have no choice,” Rashid said at last. “If we leave it here, someone else will find it. And if we don’t use it... we might never stand a chance against the forces that threaten us.”

With a deep breath, Rashid reached for the Ashen Crown.