Part Two: Grim's Kindle – 60 Days in the Dream realm
Location: The Dream realm, Realm of the Dragon
Time Flow: 1 minute in the real world = 1 day here. Grim has spent 60 days in this brutal training landscape.
The landscape of the Dream realm seemed endless. Churning firestorms. Volcanic mountains taller than the sky. Massive, shifting infernos. Time didn't just pass here; it warped. Every second felt like eternity. Yet Grim had no choice but to keep moving.
Day 1 – Day 30:
Every day, the dragon's voice echoed over him, guiding, taunting, instructing. And every day, Grim fought—against the flame copies of himself, against the shifting, changing trials that tested his body, mind, and soul. The pain was relentless, but it was nothing compared to the weight of failure.
The dreamfire burned through him, and he burned back, transforming. Each day, his flame flickered higher, hotter. But the strain was mounting.
Day 31 – Day 45:
The dragon's form began to shift with the passing days, towering over him, proud and disdainful. Its voice became a constant presence, shaping Grim's every move.
"You have talent, Inheritor. But talent alone is nothing. The Kindle is not about how strong you are. It is about why you burn."
Grim's heart hammered in his chest, his power surging. But he was still not enough. His fire wasn't solid yet. It wouldn't hold.
Day 46 – Day 59:
A new kind of pain hit him. It wasn't physical. It was mental.
The dragon's prideful laughter echoed in the vast space, reverberating deep within his mind.
"Do you understand now, little spark? Kindle is not a mere awakening. It is a transformation. It will tear you apart to remake you."
Grim's body shook, his muscles aching as his flame flickered between ember and inferno. Yet, something was different now. His fire was more controlled. More purposeful. Still volatile, but focused.
Day 60:
Grim stood alone in the heart of the Dream realm, his body battered and singed. His core pulsed with a deep, steady rhythm—his flame now holding firm, unwavering. He had reached Kindle.
But at what cost?
The Dragon stood towering above him, eyes glowing with a pride so deep it could burn the heavens.
"You have achieved Kindle, Inheritor. But I sense the question in you. The doubt."
Grim breathed heavily, his eyes flicking to the horizon. He knew now. Something felt wrong. Not in the world… but in himself.
The Dragon spoke again, its voice low and knowing.
"I sense something else... in the air. Something within the one you call Sparks."
Grim's head snapped up. "What's wrong with her?"
The dragon's eyes flared for a moment before dimming with some unspoken knowing.
"It is not for me to interfere. She is your burden now. You will have to fix her. She is a flame—just like you. And I am not the one to teach you that."
Grim clenched his fists, his breath sharp. Something deep inside him roared—but not from his own flame. It was her fire he felt. Weak. Flickering. Something had infected it. He had to return.
The Dragon turned away, its massive wings shifting in the molten air.
"You've learned the hard truth: strength is built in the fire. But you will always be burned by it, Inheritor. Now, go. Fix your flame."
With that, the dragon vanished into the horizon of flames, leaving Grim standing alone.
The world seemed to quiet.
Grim clenched his jaw. Time was ticking. Sparks... needed him.
Sparks and the Mirror
Sparks stood in the quiet corner of her mind, staring into the swirling fire. The voice she had tried to ignore was louder now. It came at her from all sides, pulling her deeper into her own flame.
The mirror had shown her a reflection that wasn't hers—one that felt more right than her own. A voice that felt like a whisper on the edge of her thoughts.
"You think you can fix what's broken? You think you can just burn it all away?"
She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to speak, but the words felt wrong.
"You are not the flame you think you are."
Her reflection grinned, its eyes blazing in a shade she hadn't known—something darker than her usual flame. A more ancient fire.
"You were never the one to wield this flame. You only carry the echo."
Sparks gasped, a chill crawling down her spine. The voice—the reflection—it was too real.
The flame in her chest flickered wildly.
She couldn't hold it in anymore. She screamed into the fire. And the fire answered.
Got it — here's the plan: