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Between Clay and Fire

Chapter 16 - Red Beneath That Very Stone

Chapter 16 - Red Beneath That Very Stone

Jul 10, 2025

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.

  • •  Blood/Gore
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Ramin waited, hoping. But nothing happened. In truth, he wasn’t chosen by the flames; it only seemed as if he was chosen by the color they took.

"Kindled!" the High Priest announced.

Ramin emerged from the fire, his hands clenched into fists. "Why... why is there no stone in my hand?" his voice trembled. "Where is the Essance stone?"

His mother stepped forward and gripped her son's arm tightly. "You wasted money on that foolish stone. Did you think you could deceive the sacred fire?"

"But I thought..."

"Enough!" his father said angrily. "At least we haven't lost face. Being Kindled is an honor. Better than those who become nothing."

Arash watched the scene carefully. So those stones the old man sold were useless. But if the fire couldn't be deceived, then why did he possess an essence stone? No—he didn’t. His hands were empty. There was no Essence Stone at all.

Days passed one after another. Arash watched the ceremonies from hidden corners each day. At night, he hid in different rooms of the inn. People were strange—why didn't they always sleep in the same room? This made his nights difficult.

On the second day, three were chosen. Two Kindled and one Blazed. The Blazed family celebrated, but the Kindled families wore expressions mixing pride and disappointment.

On the third day, something tragic occurred. A boy from the small Mountain clan entered the fire, but the flames took on no color. They remained their ordinary hue.

"Without flame!" the High Priest announced in a heavy voice.

The boy emerged from the fire stunned and bewildered. His family hung their heads in shame and quietly left the grounds. Arash felt his heart ache—he had experienced this same fate.

Then on the fourth day, a miracle occurred.

A girl from the small Mountain clan, beautiful and graceful, stepped forward in simple clothing. Her name was Shida. She had bright Golden eyes and light brown hair. When she stepped into the fire, the flames first turned white, then transformed into the deep green of ancient forests.

The crowd held their breath. This color... this was rare.

"Lightbringer!" the High Priest cried with a trembling voice. "This girl is a Lightbringer!"

A murmur of wonder swept through the grounds. People looked at each other. Lightbringer... Arash had heard this word. He'd heard from the capital that only girls achieved this inner trait. They possessed very high healing abilities. A Lightbringer Essence Stone holds the very light from which the angels themselves were born 
Shida emerged from the fire with a brilliant green essence stone gleaming in her hand. Her small family wept with joy. This would transform their lives.


Then the seventh day arrived—the day of the great clans.


The fire temple grounds had never been so magnificent. The powerful Houses lined up in white robes threaded with gold and silver, each a display of ancient power and wealth. Even the air was different—heavier, filled with expectation.

House Mithra took the lead position. Mehran Mithrayi, ruler of the land, was a man with a mountainous stature and a piercing gaze that seemed to probe the depths of one's soul. His mere presence was enough to cast an aura of majesty and dignity over the grounds. His black hair mixed with silver and well-groomed beard showed forty years of life filled with responsibility.

Beside him stood Narine Banu, his second wife, a woman of stunning beauty with a gaze that blended kindness and power. Her brown hair was braided in delicate plaits, and her deep black eyes reflected maternal love.

His twin sons, Behnam and Shayan, stood before the fire. Behnam was calm and collected, as if certain of the outcome. Shayan was slightly anxious, his gaze constantly returning to his mother.

Anahita, Mehran's twelve-year-old daughter, stood beside her grandmother. She had brilliant green eyes and black hair that gleamed in the firelight. But her gaze was strange—as if she saw something others were unaware of.
"Behnam Mithrayi!" the High Priest shouted. "Enter the flames of judgment!"

Behnam stepped forward with complete confidence. His steps were firm and unhesitating. The crowd fell silent. Even the birds seemed to stop their singing.

When he entered the fire, the flames first remained white, then transformed into bright blue. But suddenly, something happened that amazed everyone—red streaks like dragon's blood appeared among the blue.

"What... what is this?" one of the spectators whispered hoarsely.

"Powerful Blazed!" the High Priest declared with his sacred staff. "This boy is a Powerful Blazed!"

The blue mixed with red was rare. It indicated high power in fire control as well as leadership ability. Mehran nodded, satisfaction evident in his gaze.

Behnam emerged from the fire with a brilliant blue-red essence stone in his hand. The crowd cheered.

Now it was Shayan's turn.

"Shayan Mithrayi! Enter the flames!"

Shayan hesitated for a moment. He looked at his mother. Anxiety was visible in his eyes.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," Narine Banu said with a kind smile. "The fire will speak your truth. Whatever it may be, you are my son."

Shayan took a deep breath and entered the fire. The flames turned pure, beautiful blue. No red streaks, no strange colors. Just pure blue.

"Blazed!" the High Priest announced.

Narine Banu wept tears of joy. "Both my sons... both became powerful."

Mehran placed his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Mithra has blessed us."

Then came the turn of the other houses. House Khorvan, House Farohar, House Spendiar... one after another.

Arman Khorvan, son of Rashnav the General, entered the fire. Unlike the anxiety of previous days, he now had relative calm.

The fire turned orange. Not powerful blue, not pure white. Simple orange.

"Kindled!" the High Priest announced.

Rashnv Khorvan furrowed his brow. His jaw tightened. Being Kindled was good, but not enough for a general's son.

"Better than nothing, brother," Vashna, Arman's sister, said loudly. Then under her breath, but loud enough for others to hear, she added: "Pathetic... I expected more from you."

Arman heard this. His cheeks flushed red. He clenched his fists but said nothing. He hung his head and walked toward his family.

"Vashna!" Rashnav scolded. "Enough."

"What, father? I spoke the truth."

The ceremony concluded. The great houses had all received their destinies. In the outer courtyard of the fire temple, people gathered in small groups discussing the results.

Arash noticed the air growing heavier. Something ominous was approaching; he could feel it in his bones. The guards were acting strangely too. They had finished their patrol earlier than usual.

The Mithra family stood in a corner. People circled them, offering flattery. Mehran responded with dignity, Narine Banu wore a kind smile, and the twin sons showed their essence stones to the onlookers.

But Anahita had separated from the family and stood in the middle of the courtyard, staring directly at something. Her green eyes were wide and her brow furrowed.

Arash followed her gaze. A powerfully built young man in white robes with a beautiful silver belt stood there. The patterns on his belt bore a strange resemblance to  Mithra's symbols. But something about him was familiar...
Suddenly Arash saw something else. Beneath Anahita's feet, the ground was slightly uneven and a faint light was flickering. Suddenly a memory stirred in his mind. From that night when a man had buried a stone in that very spot.
His heart raced. The blood froze in his veins.

Without thinking, he ran toward Anahita.

"Anahita!" the guards' voices rang out. "The lord's daughter is in danger!"

"Who is that?" one guard shouted.

"Catch him!" another cried.

Arash collided with the girl with such force that they both tumbled to the ground. At that exact moment, the light beneath Anahita's feet exploded with a deafening crack. Filthy dust and the smell of sulfur filled the air.

A terrible roar like the sound of hell arose. The ground shook.

When the dust settled slightly, a heart-wrenching scene was revealed. A massive white Div (Div Sepid or White Demon) the size of three grown men was devouring one of the guards. The guard had been torn in half, and fresh blood dripped from the div's mouth.

The remaining guards stood stunned and bewildered. One of them had witnessed his colleague's dismemberment and was frozen in place with terror.

"What... what is this?" someone in the crowd cried hoarsely.

"Div! A div has come!" a woman screamed.

The crowd became chaotic. Screams and shouts filled the air. PPeople rushed in every direction . Children cried, mothers clutched their children in their arms.

The White div fixed its bloody gaze on Arash and Anahita. Its large, round eyes promised death. Its sharp, blood-stained teeth gleamed in the firelight.

"My God!" one of the remaining guards said with a trembling voice. "How are we supposed to fight this thing?"

Meanwhile, Mehran Mithrayi shouted in a resonant voice: "Anahita! Where is my daughter?"

"Anahita!" Narine Banu screamed in panic. "My daughter!"

Behnam and Shayan pulled out their essence stones. "Father, let us..."

"No!" Mehran said decisively. "It's too dangerous."

The White div moved toward Arash and Anahita. Each step made the ground tremble.

"Girl!" Arash quickly said to Anahita. "Close your eyes!"

"What... what are you doing? Who are you?" Anahita asked with a trembling voice, her entire body shaking.

"Quickly!" Arash shouted.

Anahita closed her eyes.

Arash pulled out his essence stone. A gray light emanated from it. A heavy ash dust was created that disrupted the White Div's vision.

The White Div blindly struck around with its claws. Arash grabbed Anahita's hand and ran in the opposite direction.

"Mother!" Anahita, her eyes still closed, cried. "Where is my mother?"

"Be quiet!" Arash whispered. "Don't make a sound."

When they reached behind a thicket, Anahita opened her eyes. She looked with amazement at the glowing stone in Arash's hand.

"You... you have an essence stone?" her voice trembled with wonder. "But how old are you? How is this possible 
 Were you chosen by the sacred fire?"

Arash remained silent. He only turned his gaze away from the girl.

"Speak!" Anahita said with an aristocratic but frightened tone. "I am Anahita Mithrayi. Daughter of the land's ruler. You must answer me!"

Arash raised his head and for the first time looked directly into her green eyes. His voice was calm and cold: "Arash."

"Arash what? What is your House name?"

"Just Arash."

Anahita frowned. "No one has just a name. Everyone belongs to a House or Family. Even the poorest people have House names."

"I don't."

"Why? What happened?"

Arash fell silent.

The White Div's roar echoed, accompanied by people's screams and guards' shouts.

Anahita shivered and involuntarily moved closer to Arash. "What was that thing? How were you able to... how did you create that dust?"

"It was a div," Arash gave a short answer.

Anahita looked into Arash's cold eyes. There was no lie in that gaze, but his fearlessness was completely false. Anahita had sharp eyes for reading people. She could see that Arash was just as frightened as she was and couldn't move from his position.

Arash said quietly to Anahita: "If you're tired of living, then continue talking."

"Alright," she whispered. "But later you'll explain everything."

Arash nodded. He took Anahita's hand and they hid further away, near the Old Tree, but they could still see the div's bloody scene in the light of the sacred fire in that darkness.

The sound of Mehran Mithrayi giving orders, Narine Banu calling her daughter's name, and the Div's roar that dominated everything.

Arash, who until a few moments ago had stood cold and firm against dangerous situations, now cowered within himself at the White Div's terrifying gaze. He had never seen a div before.

A twelve-year-old boy who now trembled with fear while trying to appear strong.

Anahita wasn't in better condition either. Her whole body shook and her right foot, which had been injured during the escape, ached. Small drops of blood had dried on the ground.

They remained there behind the thicket. They didn't budge. Fear had frozen them as they watched the White Div coloring its white body with the blood of people and children.

The demon tore apart one of the women with its claws. The sound of breaking bones and terrible screams filled the air. Blood splattered on the sacred stones of the fire temple.

Suddenly two small children who had fled from death ran toward the thicket. A boy about seven years old and a five-year-old girl who were crying from fear and looking in all directions.

"Mother! Where is my mother?" the little girl said in a voice muffled by tears.

The little boy had taken his sister's hand and was trying to calm her, but he was terrified too.

When Arash saw this scene, something strange happened. On his forehead, a seal that had reappeared after the div's arrival began to glow.

Seeing this mark, Anahita's eyes widened. Her breath caught.

"You... you're a Naecish (Nameless)?" her voice became a muffled whisper.

Arash placed his hand on his forehead. He thought to himself, "The mark has appeared again. Wasn't I forgiven by the sacred fire?"

"Yes," he answered briefly, without taking his gaze from the div.

Anahita stepped back. All her life she had been told that the Naecish’s were dangerous. They were outcasts who shouldn't even be looked at. But this boy...

"But... but, you... You saved me," her voice was confused.

Arash still wouldn't turn his eyes from the div.

The white div, whose body had now turned completely red with blood, raised its head and let out a terrible roar. The smell of death and sulfur came from its mouth.

The two small children who had hidden behind the same bush clung to each other more tightly from fear.

Anahita said to Arash: "We should bring those two children to us."

The two children were quite far from them. The path to reach them was directly in the div's line of sight, and the div was very close to those two children.

"Don't even think about it. If we move from here, we'll be no different from those flesh and bones on the ground."

Anahita said with a distressed and trembling voice: "How heartless you are. We should save them."

Arash covered Anahita's mouth and pressed it shut, whispering very quietly: "Be quiet. We'll both die. Think of yourself."

The sound of the div approaching them brought both back to the present. The ground beneath their feet trembled from its heavy steps.

The two small children looked at Arash and Anahita with terror. As if waiting for a miracle.

The demon’s large hands closed around the two children, and with a sickening crunch, their bodies were reduced to pulp—flesh, bone, and blood spilling between its fingers.

The div drank their blood like a child sips juice—slow, indulgent, and smiling, as if tasting something long craved.
 
The div's behavior changed slightly. Its eyes opened wider than before, as if it had gained awareness. It sniffed, searching for something. In a thick, harsh voice it declared: "I want inner flame. Inner flame."

Its gaze fixed directly on Narine Banu's twins. "Oh, what purity!"

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Arash must live to achieve his goal, but survival itself is the cruelest burden of all.

The world offers no sanctuary-it burns without mercy, devours the weak like kindling, and hammers the strong into new forms on its relentless anvil. Those who resist its transformations are shattered like brittle bone. Only those who surrender to the flames, who walk willingly into the inferno and allow it to reshape their very essence, emerge as something beyond human frailty.

Arash's inner fire must blaze hotter than the world's destruction if he hopes to conquer what lies ahead. He cannot fight the change that claws at him-it will break him as it has broken countless others. But if he embraces the agony, if he lets the fire consume everything weak within him, he will be forged into something greater than he ever imagined.

Suffering is not his curse-it is his forge, the sacred crucible where weakness dies and strength is born. Yet even this understanding carries its own weight, for to live, to continue walking this scorched earth when oblivion would be mercy, that is the true curse he must bear.
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16 episodes

Chapter 16 - Red Beneath That Very Stone

Chapter 16 - Red Beneath That Very Stone

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