Morning came not with sunlight, but with the steady glow of the crystal-lit cavern ceiling. Even without a sky, Hollow pulsed with life. Children darted through narrow bridges. Smiths pounded enchanted metal. Soulmarked meditated around rune-circles, their auras faintly glowing with elemental traces—wind, stone, flame, shadow.
Kael stood at the edge of a stone platform, watching them all with unease.
He felt like an imposter.
His scar had stopped burning, but a subtle throb remained beneath his skin—a pulse of something alive, ancient, waiting.
"Come," Mira said behind him. "Your training begins today."
---
The Flamecaller's Trial
They led him to a sunken chamber carved into the base of the Hollow. There, a circular arena waited—scorch marks across the floor, and statues of long-dead heroes lining the walls.
In the center stood a man cloaked in crimson and bronze. His arms were bare, revealing skin etched with flame-shaped markings that glowed like molten metal.
"This is Master Revak," Mira said. "Flamecaller of the Hollow. He trained most of us."
Revak looked Kael over, unimpressed. "The boy with the First Flame."
Kael lifted his chin. "I don't even know what that means."
"Then learn quickly," Revak growled, and suddenly a blast of fire erupted from his palm—hurling toward Kael.
Instinct screamed through Kael's body. He flinched, raising his arm.
The fire hit his palm—and exploded outward, redirected in a perfect arc into the arena wall.
Gasps echoed.
Revak nodded slowly. "Good. You are marked. But untrained. Raw flame burns everything—including the one who holds it."
Kael's hand trembled. The skin was unburned, but the sensation of heat lingered.
"Again," Revak barked.
For the next hour, Kael was pushed to his limit.
He learned how to summon the spark from his mark, how to guide it, shape it. But each time he drew too much, the power turned volatile—burning the air, cracking the ground.
At one point, the flames nearly consumed him.
Only Mira's intervention saved him.
---
Aftermath
Later, Kael sat at the edge of the training platform, soaked in sweat, body aching. His emotions churned—frustration, fear… and a hunger for control.
Mira sat beside him, silent for a while.
Then she said, "You don't have to master it all today."
Kael shook his head. "I'm not like the others. You all had years to prepare. I've had two days. And I already feel like I'm losing pieces of myself to this fire."
She looked at him. "You're not the only one afraid of what's inside you, Kael. But you have something we didn't."
He frowned. "What?"
"The Flame remembers. Yours is tied to something older than our wars—older than the Empire. Your memories aren't just your own. You're carrying echoes of someone—something—that came before."
Kael blinked. "You mean… past lives?"
She hesitated. "Or something worse."
Before he could ask further, the alarm bells rang.
Three deep chimes, followed by one short.
Mira stood instantly. "Inquisition scouts. They've found one of our tunnels."
Revak's voice thundered through the cavern: "All Soulmarked—prepare for breach!"
Kael rose to his feet, his scar glowing faintly.
The flames within him stirred again, not with fear—but with purpose.
This time, he would not run.