The fire crackled low.
Kael sat motionless, staring into the embers. Cinder lay curled beside him, breathing slowly, healing—but his scales were dimmer now, and the ridge along his back trembled with every breath.
"We shouldn't be alive," Kael whispered.
He should've run. Should've died. Should've been ash, like Ember Hollow.
But something inside him had changed.
The bond with Cinder had deepened. In that moment of fear, rage, and fire, they had moved as one—not like Rider and beast, but like two halves of a single soul.
Kael hadn't cast a spell. He hadn't channeled power.
He became it.
Still… the Mark on his palm now burned faintly, even at rest. A warning. A tether. A promise.
He wasn't just bonded.
He was becoming a true Rider.
🕯️ Later that night...
Kael drifted into a restless sleep, the fire dying to glowing coals.
That's when he heard it.
A voice—not in the air, but in the flames.
"Kael..."
He turned. The fire had reshaped—no longer a campfire, but a spiraling inferno. At the center stood a figure cloaked in living fire.
Not a man. Not a dragon.
Something older.
"You opened the bond too soon," it said, voice like shifting coals."The world is not ready for another Rider. And neither are you."
Kael stepped back. "What are you? A vision? A memory?"
"I am the last spark of the First Flame. The Rider-Fire. The one who made the pact."
Kael's breath caught.
He'd heard that phrase in old tales—"The Rider-Fire," the magic given when dragons first chose humans to ride them. It was a gift, but also a burden.
"You've been chosen, Kael," the voice said."But every flame has a cost. And yours… is coming."
The fire began to fade, but not before a single, burning symbol rose from the coals.
A twisted crown. Black. Cracked down the middle.
Kael blinked—
And woke up gasping.
⚠️ The next morning
Cinder was awake, standing guard over Kael's bed of pine needles and cloaks.
His eyes met Kael's.
You dreamed, the dragon said—not with words, but in a sensation Kael could feel.You saw it too.
Kael nodded slowly. "It warned me."
But warned him of what?
He didn't know.
Yet.
Meanwhile… in the Obsidian Capital
A knight knelt before the obsidian throne.
King Malric IV sat cloaked in black and crimson, a sword resting across his lap. His face was shadowed. Cold. He said nothing for a long time.
Then, with a flick of his finger, he tossed a charred piece of cloth to the floor—bearing the faint remains of Kael's village crest.
"The Rider is alive," the king said flatly."And bonded."
The knight bowed. "Arik Thorne confirmed it. But… he failed to kill the boy."
The king's hand curled around the sword's hilt.
"Then he'll burn again. Along with anyone who shelters him."
He stood slowly.
"Send the Inquisitors.Find the dragon.And bring me the boy's head."
Chapter End:
Kael has glimpsed the ancient magic within his blood.The Crown has declared him an enemy.And far below the earth, the dragonfire that once shaped the world… stirs again.
Next Chapter: Chapter 7: Blood on the Sky