The fire was long gone, yet the heat lingered in Kael's memory.
Even now, as he sat beside a dying campfire in the hollow of an old cave, he could still hear the crackling of the flames that had destroyed everything. He could still smell the smoke, the scorched wood, the burned betrayal.
His hand hovered over the low fire, not to warm it—but to listen.
Because tonight, the flame whispered.
---
It began when he focused—truly focused.
The mark on his arm pulsed again, faintly this time, as though sensing his stillness. Blue light flickered beneath his skin like the glow of a buried ember. He stared into the flames, eyes half-lidded, breath slow.
And then he heard it.
A voice.
Soft. Ancient. Genderless. Echoing inside his mind like distant thunder on a mountain.
> "You carry the Ember of Orvane."
Kael's breath caught.
The fire hissed louder.
He leaned closer, unsure if he was hallucinating.
> "Abandoned… awakened… the last of the line..."
The flames twisted unnaturally. They began to rise and take shape—a figure, cloaked in heat and shadow. A tall, faceless being with a flickering crown of fire, arms outstretched, formed for mere seconds before vanishing into sparks.
Kael stumbled back, sweat beading his brow.
> "What was that?"
No answer.
Only the fire crackling softly again, as if it had never moved.
---
His heart raced.
He wiped his brow and looked at his arm.
The sigil still glowed faintly. It no longer felt foreign. It felt like it was calling something.
Or being called.
> Ember of Orvane...
The name rang in his mind.
He didn't know what Orvane was. A person? A place? A curse?
But he knew one thing—this was connected to the reason they feared him. Why they tried to suppress him. Why they left him behind.
They weren't just afraid of Kael.
They were afraid of what he carried.
---
He closed his eyes, thinking back to his earliest memories. A dream that had haunted him since he was a child:
A tower, burning.
A woman with silver eyes screaming his name.
A sword wreathed in fire, falling from the sky.
He never understood it. The elders at the orphanage had called it just "nightmares."
But were they memories?
Or visions?
His hands trembled. What if the sigil wasn't a curse?
What if it was a key?
---
Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a sound—footsteps.
Not animals.
Human.
Kael shot up, extinguishing the fire with a stomp, plunging the cave into darkness. He pressed against the wall, listening.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Slow. Measured. Deliberate.
And then—a voice, deep and steady.
> "You've awakened it too early."
Kael's eyes widened.
From the shadows outside the cave, a man emerged. Cloaked in gray, with a scar running down his cheek and a glowing sigil of his own—burning red.
He looked at Kael with tired eyes. Not hostile. Not kind.
Just… knowing.
> "We've been watching you, Kael Ardent. You weren't supposed to survive the fire."
Kael's body tensed.
> "Who are you?" he growled.
The man didn't answer. He just tilted his head.
> "You'll come with me. You're not safe alone anymore. Not with the Ember burning."
> "And if I don't?" Kael challenged, fists clenched.
The man
smiled faintly.
> "Then they'll find you first."
> "Who's 'they'?"
The man's smile vanished.
> "The ones who left you behind."