The forge slate pulsed once—then went still.
No divine law descended.
No ancient voice responded.
No prophecy ignited.
Just a quiet heat.
Small.
Steady.
New.
The path had a name now:
Coalspark.
But it had no scrolls.
No scripture.
No lineage.
Only a question:
"What kind of fire do you want to become?"
The first to step forward was Lao Yun, a girl who had once failed five sect entry exams. Her chi was uneven, her spirit wheel incomplete.
She touched the slate.
And said:
"I want to be the kind of fire that never burns out… even when no one looks."
A soft spark appeared on her palm.
For a moment, everyone held their breath.
Then—
It held.
Not bright.
Not powerful.
Just there.
Next came a boy who spoke with his hands, not his mouth.
He didn't chant a mantra.
He simply drew a flame.
And it followed him home.
Then came another.
And another.
Each flame, different.
Each one valid.
Because Coalspark didn't judge.
It responded.
Wei Lin and Shen Tai stood beside the forge, watching the first class of flameformers emerge.
They weren't prodigies.
But they were something rarer:
Flames that were lit on their own terms.
That night, the teachers met in the upper towers.
One elder frowned. "This is dangerous. There's no structure. No ceiling. No law."
Another said, "That's exactly why it matters."
And far away, Xu Shen sent one line in a soulwind letter:
"Let them build what I never dared."
The next day, the first Coalspark technique was born.
Not a blade form.
Not a devouring strike.
Just a movement:
Step forward, even when you fear you shouldn't.
They called it:
"Kindling Courage."