Kael woke up gasping, but this time, it wasn't from a nightmare, but from the burn.
The mark on his chest was now beating even faster with an intensity that sent a wave of heat through his body, and it was almost feeling like someone had pressed a brand to his ribs and twisted it with all their might.
He jolted upright, and was sweating very profusely despite the cold morning air that came into the monastery through the cracks in the stone walls.
He looked around, and it was still the same empty room, the same stone walls, a cot, and a single dying torch that was in the corner. Overall, it was all still the same as last night, but something still felt very off.
He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the basin near the door where he splashed cold water on his face and then started to stare into the warped, and tarnished metal mirror above the basin.
His face was still very much his own, at least, but he noticed that the look in his eyes was darker today, almost like his eyes had sunk a little deeper into his skull, and like whatever dream he had earlier but couldn't remember had taken something from him.
The mark on his chest was quiet now, no longer pulsing, and a lot less painful, but the warmth hadn't gone away, as it was wide awake.
---
Corvan was already waiting for him outside the monastery when Kael stepped into the open courtyard. The sky was slightly dark, and the wind also felt stagnant, but the training ground from yesterday was still untouched, and the dummies were still burnt and cracked from how wildly he had been swinging at them the previous day.
Corvan didn't look up as Kael approached.
"You slept late," he said calmly.
Kael rubbed the back of his neck. "It didn't even feel like I slept a wink."
Corvan turned to face him, and Kael noticed that his blindfold looked tighter today.
"Good, because that means your body knows what it carries, and should be aware that the Ashbrand doesn't rest," he responded.
Kael frowned. "I dreamed of fire again, and this time, there was something watching me, not from around me, but from inside the fire itself."
Corvan's head tilted slightly. "Perhaps, you're beginning to hear the other soul, which was the one bound to the brand. The Godkiller didn't leave behind any memories, but he left what I'd call echoes, which are basically fragments of himself to test the next vessel."
Kael didn't like the word "vessel," but he said nothing.
Corvan gestured toward the temple entrance. "We won't be training out here today, so come with me."
At that, they made their way down a narrow staircase that was technically hidden behind a rusted iron door in the back of the main sanctuary, and each step took them deeper and deeper into the dark until the air grew warmer, and filled with a scent that was earthy and old.
There were several torches lining up the walls, and Kael noticed as Corvan lit them as they moved, with each one of them bursting into greenish flame at the snap of his fingers.
Kael stared at the magic. "You can use fire?"
Corvan shook his head. "This isn't fire, it's ashlight, a residue from old magic that's still bound to the walls. Most of the monastery was created from volcanic rock, and the remnants of divine flame. So the Godkiller's mark burns here too, but just more quietly."
Kael nodded his head in understanding without saying anything, and then they arrived at a massive stone door that had runes that Kael didn't recognize. Corvan placed his hand against it, and as soon as he did, the mark on Kael's chest flared.
The door opened with a rumble, and beyond it was a vast looking cavern. The ground was looking burnt, and black, and the walls were marked with ancient symbols, with some glowing faintly, while the others were long dead, and at the center of the space stood a statue.
It was of the Godkiller, and Kael knew it instantly.
The figure was dressed in a black cloak, with his blade planted in the earth, his eyes hollow, and his face masked, and around him, spiraling upward, were a dozen smaller figures chained to the statue's base, and all of them looked like they were screaming.
Kael stepped closer, and his breath caught in his throat as he ended up recognizing one of the faces chained to the base of the statue.
It was his own face.
"What the hell is this?" he questioned in his shock.
Corvan walked slowly around the edge of the room. "This is the Shadowbound Circle, and it's the place where every Markbearer ends up. As I've told you, you're not the first to carry the flame, just the latest one, and the Godkiller left this as a way to test those who followed."
Kael looked again at the statue. "Why does it have my face?"
Corvan knelt beside a brazier and lit it, and the fire came up high before dimming into a softer color.
"Because part of you has worn the brand before, probably not in this life, but perhaps in the one before this one. Some say the soul is the only part of a person the gods couldn't fully control, and that's why they hunted it, but you'll understand in due time."
Kael backed away slowly. "You mean reincarnation, right?"
Corvan shrugged. "Or the brand is pulling pieces of you from a past that never was. Either way, this is where we find out if you belong here."
He stood and stared back at Kael dead-on.
"You have to step into the circle, and then when you stand before the statue, you offer a drop of your blood. If the brand accepts it, you'll begin to see what came before, and if it rejects you—"
"I die?"
"No," Corvan said. "Worse, you lose your mind, and what's left of you will wish it could die."
Kael's throat dried, and then he looked back at the statue. His reflection was still there, and it seemed to him like the version of himself with the Godkiller's statue was in a lot of pain.
He stepped forward, and as he did, the mark on his chest started to heat up again, creating a rhythm that felt like a war drum beating. When he reached the statue's base, he brought out the training dagger at his side, the real one, and not the summoned blade, and made a small cut across his palm.
He held it over the pedestal, and when a single drop of blood hit the stone, nothing happened.
He looked around, wondering why nothing was happening, but just when he thought nothing would happen, the room started to shake, not violently, but just enough to let him know that something had stirred.
The statue's eyes lit up with dull red, and Kael fell backward, gasping for air as the ground under him started to beat strangely. From the shadows, figures started to form, and they were not fully human, but not fully spirit either, and they circled him in silence.
Each one had a mark, confirming that each one of them was a Markbearer, and all of them were watching him.
Corvan remained outside the circle.
"Don't speak unless spoken to," he said. "And don't lie. They already know the truth."
The first to speak was a woman with red hair, whose body was wrapped in an old looking armor, and her eyes were glowing faintly.
"You carry the mark, but do you carry the will?" she asked.
Kael's voice caught in his throat. "I... I don't know."
Another figure stepped forward, a giant of a man with soot-colored skin and a blade that was fused to his forearm.
"The weak are always unsure. Are you afraid?"
Kael nodded. "Yes," he answered, not seeing a reason to lie.
The figures murmured among themselves, but for some reason, Kael couldn't understand a word they were saying.
The red-haired woman nodded once. "Then you are honest, and the first step to gaining more power is knowing when you're not ready."
Kael stood straighter, and the circle of figures slowly began to fade to his surprise.
The woman stepped last, reaching toward him, and her hand hovered over his heart.
"You will burn a lot, but you will not be broken. Keep that in mind."
She said, and then they all vanished, the statue dimmed, and Kael collapsed.
---
He woke back in the sanctuary, and the first thing he noticed was that he was lying on a stone bed, and Corvan was seated nearby with a cup of something steaming.
"What... what was that?" he asked immediately.
Corvan handed him the cup. "It's a judgment, and a warning. The others accepted you, but they won't help you as you're walking a path that only ends one of two ways. You either ascend, and fully carry the power of the Godkiller, or you become ash."
Kael took the drink, and as soon as he drank it, he made a face at how bitter and hot it was.
He wiped his mouth. "And if I want to live?"
Corvan stood up. "Then we have to keep training, and when you're slightly stronger we move forward. Tomorrow, we move to the blade's second form, and you'll learn to fight while it burns."
After Corvan's words, Kael lay back down with his heart still pounding.
The hunger in the mark hadn't faded, and somewhere deep in his chest, he could feel the eyes of the others watching, and waiting to see if he was going to be worth remembering.