Chapter 7: Shadows Beneath the Light
The descent from the Cradle of Embers was faster than the climb—but not easier.
The mountain trembled behind them, as though stirred by Kavin's awakening. Smoke now rose thicker from the peak, and something dark had shifted in the skies above the highlands.
Kavin said little.
The flame he had absorbed still pulsed under his skin. His mark now glowed even at rest, reaching his shoulder like a living brand. The magic was growing inside him—stronger, deeper—but with it came something else: weight.
A pressure.
Like something… watching.
Or waiting.
They made camp near a cold brook nestled between red stone cliffs. Riven, always quiet, scribbled glowing runes into his journal. Lyra tended to their fire, though Kavin didn't need it for warmth anymore.
He sat at the edge of the stream, staring into his reflection. His eyes looked the same… but somehow not. There was a flicker in them now. A light that hadn't been there before.
A light he didn't understand.
Lyra joined him quietly. "You did well."
"I almost died."
"You lived. That's enough."
Kavin looked up. "The Queen… she's still speaking to me. Not in words. But... I can feel her. Like smoke in my thoughts."
Lyra's expression darkened. "Then we don't have time to waste. The second trial awaits."
The next morning, Riven led them into the Whispershade Forest, where the trees grew twisted and thick, their trunks covered in silver moss. Unlike the forests of Elarion's heartlands, this one listened. Every step echoed strangely. Every shadow seemed to breathe.
"This is where the Trial of Soul lies," Riven said. "You won't face a creature this time."
Kavin frowned. "Then what?"
"Yourself."
The deeper they went, the more distorted the forest became.
Voices whispered in the wind—some in languages Kavin didn't recognize, others in ones that cut too close to home.
He heard his mother's voice.
His grandfather's.
Then... Lyra's voice, calling out in pain.
He spun—she was fine. Still walking beside him.
"It's illusion," Riven warned. "But illusions drawn from truth."
Then came the clearing.
At the center stood a mirror. Tall, jagged, and made not of glass, but of still, dark water.
Kavin stepped forward.
"Alone," Riven said. "This trial is yours and yours alone."
Kavin nodded—and stepped into the light.
He blinked.
Suddenly, he stood back in his village.
But it was burning.
The sky above was crimson. The earth cracked and bleeding fire. His home was rubble. Bodies littered the streets.
"No..." he whispered.
A figure stepped from the flames.
Himself.
But different.
This Kavin wore armor of shadow and flame. His eyes glowed red. His voice echoed with ash.
"I am what you could become," the dark Kavin said. "If you let the fire own you."
"I would never—"
"You already are. You crave power. You like how it feels. Don't you?"
Kavin shook his head. "No. That's not me."
The shadow Kavin smiled. "Then prove it."
They fought.
Steel met steel.
But the battle was unlike before. Every strike came with memories. Guilt. Fear. Rage. The fire inside Kavin screamed—demanding control.
But he remembered Lyra's words. Riven's warnings. The Spirit of the Lakes.
Balance.
He dropped his blade.
The shadow Kavin paused, confused.
"I don't need to destroy you," Kavin said quietly. "I need to accept you. You're part of me. But you don't define me."
The shadow vanished in a burst of white flame.
The illusion fell.
Kavin stood in the clearing again, panting. His mark glowed with a new layer—silver light now joined the gold.
Riven and Lyra rushed to him.
"You passed," Riven said.
Kavin nodded. "But it wasn't a fight. Not really."
"No," Lyra said. "It was a choice."
That night, they rested on the forest's edge.
Two flames now lived in Kavin's soul.
One of power.
One of understanding.
But the third… the flame of choice… still lay ahead.
And far away, the Queen of Ashes stood before a mirror of her own.
She watched him.
"You're growing stronger, Starborn," she whispered. "Good. You'll burn brighter… when you fall."