Chapter 8: The Flame of Choice
Three days had passed since the Trial of Soul.
Kavin had changed.
The fire within him no longer felt like a curse—or a blessing. It was something more complicated. Something alive. It pulsed under his skin with every heartbeat. The mark on his arm had grown; now golden and silver threads intertwined down to his elbow.
But the more power he gained, the heavier his steps felt.
Like every answer led only to more questions.
They arrived at the Stonefield Divide, a canyon carved by ancient forces. Deep trenches split the land, crisscrossed by broken bridges and rusted towers. Above the Divide, the sky was always stormy—even when the sun should have shone.
Riven halted at the edge of the first chasm. "This is where the third trial begins."
Lyra crossed her arms. "There's no creature here. No mirror. Just a wasteland."
Kavin narrowed his eyes. "Then what's the test?"
Riven turned. "The Trial of Choice doesn't happen to you. You create it."
And before Kavin could ask more, Riven struck the ground with his staff—and everything went white.
Kavin blinked.
He stood alone in a new realm.
Skyless. Timeless.
Before him lay two paths.
One bathed in golden light. Peaceful, beautiful, familiar. He could hear laughter down that road. His mother's voice. His grandfather's forge. The soft hum of normal life.
The other path was dark. Wild. It stormed with shadows and screams. A vision of battlefields. Fire and blood. Danger beyond comprehension.
A voice echoed all around him—not the Queen, but something older.
"Choose, Kavin. The path of peace... or the path of power."
He hesitated.
"I don't want to lose myself."
"Then be the one who decides what 'yourself' means."
He walked toward the light.
Each step brought memories—of the life he once wanted.
A small home. Friends. Simplicity.
He saw himself smiling. Content.
But... powerless.
The Queen still ruled in that world. The world burned while he hid.
He turned around.
Faced the dark road again.
Then he looked down—and realized his path wasn't either road.
It was between them.
He stepped into the space between light and dark—and created his own road.
A third path, burning silver and gold.
The Fire of Choice.
When he woke, he was back beside Riven and Lyra. His mark now covered his entire arm, pulsing gently with power.
"You chose?" Riven asked.
"I chose myself," Kavin answered. "Not what they wanted me to be. Not what the Queen wants me to be."
Lyra smiled faintly. "Then you've passed all three trials."
Riven's expression, however, was grim. "And now the real battle begins."
Far away, thunder cracked over the Queen's fortress.
The Queen of Ashes stared into her fire mirror—eyes narrow.
"He is no longer a boy," she hissed. "He is becoming a threat."
A shadowed figure stepped behind her—tall, armored, and crowned with twisted metal.
"Then let me end him."
She turned slowly. "Soon, General. First... let him taste hope."
Back at their camp, Riven unrolled an ancient map.
"There is one place left," he said. "A place where the four winds meet. Where magic itself was born."
Lyra looked at Kavin. "Are you ready for what comes next?"
Kavin met her gaze—and for the first time, didn't hesitate.
"Yes."