Dawn crept slowly over the red ridge, lighting the ancient sigils carved into the stone. The flame beside Surya had dimmed to a low, steady glow, like an ember waiting to be stoked again. He sat cross-legged in the dust, sweat clinging to his skin, breath measured.
For hours he'd tried to enter the same state again—the surge, the connection, the clarity. But nothing came.
Kaelen sat nearby, watching him in silence.
"I don't understand," Surya said. "Yesterday it nearly tore me apart. Now… it's like it's hiding."
Kaelen picked up a loose stone and tossed it. "It's not hiding. It's waiting for you to stabilize. That burst wasn't advancement—it was the element warning you. You're not ready."
"So what do I do?"
Kaelen turned to him. "Now comes the grind. The part no one sings about. You meditate. You refine. You confront what the Flame shows you. Over and over. That's the path through Core Awakening's substages. Until your will is stronger than the element's instability."
Surya sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. "You make it sound like walking through fire is the easy part."
Kaelen chuckled. "It is. The hard part is walking out the same person."
That day passed with no breakthrough.
So did the next.
By the third morning, Surya began to see something new in the silence. Not power, not visions. But… presence. In the heat beneath his skin. In the flicker of flame on his fingertip. In the way his breath echoed the world's rhythm.
Late that night, as Kaelen slept, Surya sat alone with the monolith. His Flame Shard pulsed faintly.
He whispered, "I'm not trying to force you anymore."
The flame answered—not in words, but with warmth. It flared once. Then dimmed.
And for the first time, Surya didn't push it further.
He let it rest.
Elsewhere, beyond the mountains and over the sea, three figures met in a chamber lit by crystalline lanterns.
A Seer, cloaked in violet. A Warden of the Spiral Sanctum. And a woman robed in black, her face hidden beneath a silver veil.
"The signal originated from the Wilds," the Warden said. "Unfiltered Flame. Undirected."
The veiled woman stepped forward. "And yet potent enough to register across our archives. Only a Flamebearer could've left that kind of echo."
The Seer looked at her. "Or something worse."
The woman turned. "Then we find out. Send a scout. Quietly."
The Warden nodded. "And if the Veiled Hand finds him first?"
"Then we burn their agents before they even cross the threshold."
Back at the ridge, Surya opened his eyes as the wind shifted.
Something was coming.
And for once, he didn't flinch.
He simply watched the flame, and breathed.