The Fallen Ember
A cold wind swept across the charred valley as crimson clouds drifted slowly above, glowing like burning embers about to fall from the sky. In the middle of that silent wasteland stood a boy—barely sixteen—with soot covering his arms and a faint golden mark flickering on the back of his hand. His breath trembled, not from fear, but from the weight of something he did not understand.
Aaric had always known he was different. Ever since childhood, whenever he got angry or frightened, heat gathered in his palms—like tiny flames waiting to escape. But tonight was different. The flames had not just escaped… they had exploded.
Behind him, the shattered remains of the ancient shrine still smoked, its stone pillars cracked as if struck by lightning. He stared at the destruction, heart pounding, unsure whether he should run… or try to understand what he had done.
A rustling sound echoed from the trees. Aaric quickly stepped back, fists tightening instinctively. But instead of a beast, an old man in dark robes stepped out—a wooden staff in his hand glowing faintly.
"So it is true," the old man whispered, eyes fixed on Aaric's hand. "The Heaven-Flame has awakened."
Aaric trembled. "I… I didn't mean to destroy it. I don't even know what happened."
"That power does not awaken by accident," the old man said, approaching slowly. "For centuries, the Heaven-Flame has chosen only those destined to change the world—either to save it… or to burn it."
Aaric shook his head. "I don't want this. I'm just a villager."
The old man gave a faint, almost sorrowful smile. "Destiny does not care what you want, child. But you must decide what you will become."
Before Aaric could answer, the ground vibrated beneath their feet. A deep roar tore through the valley as a shadow rose from behind the ruined shrine—massive, winged, and burning with red-black fire. Its eyes glowed like molten metal, locked onto Aaric as if recognizing him.
The old man's expression hardened. "The Flame-Hunters have found you already."
Aaric's legs froze. The creature leapt forward, cracking the earth with its claws. Fire spiraled around its body, forming a blazing storm.
"Run!" the old man shouted, pushing Aaric back. "You are not ready to face this!"
But the beast roared again—this time aiming straight at Aaric. Heat surged through his body, the golden mark on his hand blazing like the sun. Pain shot up his arm, but along with it came something else… strength.
A voice, ancient and powerful, echoed in his mind.
"Awaken, bearer of the Heavens."
The world erupted in blinding light.