"Some destinies are not chosen—they ignite."
Rain fell for hours after the explosion.
By dawn, the city had forgotten there had ever been a battle.
The police reports blamed a gas leak. The news cycle moved on.
Only I remembered the truth—the fire, the sigil, and the man who vanished in the light.
I didn't go home. I couldn't.
Every corner of the city reminded me of Elias—the way he looked at me before he disappeared, the warmth that still lingered on my skin when he touched me.
Now it was just cold.
I wandered aimlessly until the streets blurred into one endless gray. Cars hissed past, lights flashing across puddles, and the sound of the rain mixed with a strange hum beneath my skin. The seal had broken. I could feel it.
Ariselle's voice whispered again, fainter now, as if speaking through layers of time.
"You've gone too far, Aiden. The third seal was never meant to fall."
My hands shook. "You said I needed to know the truth. You said—"
"I said to remember. Not to burn."
I stopped walking. The street around me flickered for a second, and the air rippled like heat over sand. My reflection on a nearby shop window didn't match my movements—its eyes glowed red for a heartbeat, then faded.
"What's happening to me?" I muttered.
No answer. Only silence.
Even the city seemed to be holding its breath.
A few blocks later, I found shelter under an abandoned train station. The paint peeled from the walls, and graffiti covered the old signs. It was quiet here—too quiet.
I slid down against the wall, exhausted. My hands still smelled faintly of smoke, though the flames had long vanished.
I tried to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Ariselle.
Standing in fire.
Her crown melting into gold and ash as the world around her fell apart.
And behind her, Elias—bleeding, smiling, whispering my name like it was the last thing he'd ever say.
I jolted awake, chest heaving.
That's when I heard the footsteps.
Slow. Careful.
Someone was here.
I reached for the dagger hidden inside my boot, but before I could move, a voice cut through the darkness.
"Relax. If I wanted you dead, you'd already be ash."
I looked up sharply. A tall figure stepped from the shadows, his coat dripping from the rain. He wasn't Elias—but something about his presence made my magic stir uneasily.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He smirked faintly. "Let's say I'm... a historian. One who prefers his relics alive."
"Relics?"
He crouched in front of me, eyes the color of storm clouds. "You've awakened three seals. That makes you valuable. Dangerous. And very, very interesting."
I tensed. "You work for the Conclave?"
He tilted his head. "Work with. Not for."
My grip on the dagger tightened. "What do you want?"
His smirk deepened. "To help you survive long enough to decide whether you'll destroy this world or save it."
The air between us thickened. For a moment, I could see faint lines glowing around his wrists—sigils similar to the ones Elias used, but older.
"Why me?"
He stood, looking toward the city skyline. "Because you carry something that doesn't belong in this age. And if you don't learn to control it soon…"
He turned his gaze back to me.
"…it will control you."
A sudden burst of heat flared in my chest. I doubled over, choking on air that tasted like ash. My skin lit with red cracks of light, spreading like lightning under the surface.
The man didn't move to help. He simply watched, expression unreadable.
"Don't fight it," he said calmly. "Let it burn."
"I can't—" I gasped. "It's—"
"—you," he finished softly. "It's always been you."
The world tilted, the station melting away into white. For a second, I wasn't in the present anymore.
I was standing on blackened ground under a burning sky.
Ariselle's voice was a scream.
Elias's sword was dripping gold.
And in my reflection, there was no difference between us.
The world around me flickered like a dying lightbulb, the past bleeding into the present until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
When the vision faded, I was still gasping for air, my palms pressed to the cold floor of the train station. The cracks of red light that had spread across my skin were gone, leaving only a faint burn mark over my heart.
The stranger stood a few feet away, watching silently.
"What was that?" I rasped.
He didn't answer immediately. He reached into his coat and tossed me a small metal pendant—its surface engraved with an ancient sigil, glowing faintly as if it were alive.
"A stabilizer," he said. "It'll keep your magic from tearing you apart… for now."
I turned it over in my hand. The metal pulsed once, in rhythm with my heartbeat. "Why help me?"
He smiled faintly, but his eyes didn't match the warmth of it. "Because when the Conclave finds you—and they will—you'll need allies. And because Elias Thorn doesn't save people without a reason."
The sound of that name made my chest tighten. "You know him?"
"I did. Once." His tone was too controlled, too precise. "He's not what you think he is."
I pushed myself up, anger and confusion warring inside me. "And what exactly is he?"
He looked at me for a long moment before replying.
"Someone who remembers you a little too well."
The rain outside had stopped, but thunder rolled distantly over the skyline.
I tightened my grip on the pendant. "Then tell me the truth. About him. About me. About what I've done."
He took a step closer, close enough for me to see the faint scar across his throat. "You broke the Third Seal. The one binding the flame of rebirth. In your past life, that flame destroyed entire cities. You think you're ready to carry that again?"
My voice cracked. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does."
The pendant in my hand grew hot.
The sigil pulsed faster.
For a heartbeat, I felt the echo of wings—vast, burning wings—unfurl behind me, and the stranger's eyes widened in recognition.
He whispered something in a language older than time.
Then the world exploded in light.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. White walls. Machines humming. A steady beeping that tethered me to reality.
A nurse noticed I was awake, her expression polite but wary. "You're lucky to be alive, Mr. Vale. You were found unconscious in an old station. No burns, no injuries. Just—" she hesitated, "—a strange mark on your chest."
I looked down. The mark glowed faintly under the hospital gown, shaped like a spiral flame.
"Someone brought me here?" I asked.
She frowned. "A man, yes. He didn't leave his name. Just said… 'Keep him warm. He's not done burning yet.'"
Before I could ask more, she walked away.
The pendant was still in my hand. Cold now.
But as I turned it over, I noticed something carved on the back—two letters, delicate but sharp.
E.T.
I exhaled shakily.
He was still out there.
Watching. Waiting.
And the flame inside me wasn't gone. It was growing.
The city outside my window glowed orange with sunset, and for the first time since this all began, I wasn't sure whether it was the sun… or something inside me catching fire again.
As the last rays faded, the monitor beside my bed began to flicker—not with numbers, but with symbols. The same ancient runes from my dreams.
And among them, one word formed clearly on the screen:
"Awaken."