The Whispering Ember
Warmth.
Blinding warmth.
Aaric floated in darkness, weightless like dust drifting through an endless void. He couldn't feel his hands or legs, only a burning sensation pulsing deep inside his chest—like a tiny sun trying to break free.
Somewhere far away, a voice whispered.
*"Do not fear the fire… it was yours long before you were born…"*
Aaric tried to reach toward the voice, but his fingers melted into the void. The heat grew stronger. His thoughts scattered like sparks in a storm.
Then—
A sudden jolt.
Aaric's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, coughing out hot air. His entire body trembled as he found himself lying on cold stone inside a small cave. Faint blue runes glowed on the walls, casting strange shadows. Outside, he could hear the soft crackle of fire and the distant growl of night creatures.
For a moment, he couldn't remember anything. Then the memories hit him like a wave—
the red sky, the flaming wolf-beast, the old man, the explosion of light—
He sat up abruptly. "Where—where am I?"
A calm voice answered from the corner.
"Safe. For now."
The old man sat cross-legged near the cave entrance, his staff resting beside him. His breathing was heavy, as if he'd been through a painful battle. When he turned, Aaric saw a deep burn mark on his shoulder.
Aaric's eyes widened. "You're hurt!"
The old man waved it off. "A small price to keep you alive."
Aaric swallowed, guilt twisting inside him. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't—"
"No," the man interrupted firmly. "If it wasn't for *that power* awakening inside you, the Flame Maw would have torn through your village instead."
Aaric froze.
His village… his father… his friends…
"Are they safe?" he asked, voice shaking.
"For now," the old man replied. "The creature chased your scent, not theirs."
Aaric lowered his head, relief mixing with worry. Then the burning sensation in his hand returned. The golden mark glowed faintly, like a sleeping ember.
He stared at it, whispering, "What are you?"
The old man stood slowly and walked toward him. "I suppose introductions are necessary. My name is Seron. Scholar, wanderer, guardian—choose whichever title comforts you."
Aaric forced a weak smile. "I'm Aaric. Just… Aaric."
Seron chuckled softly. "Nothing about you is 'just', boy."
He pointed at the glowing mark. "The Heaven Ember chose you."
Aaric frowned. "You said that before. But what does it mean? Why me?"
Seron took a deep breath. "Do you know the ancient legends of this valley?"
Aaric shook his head. "My father said old stories only scare children."
"Then he spared you from terrible truths." Seron tapped the runes on the cave wall. "Long ago, the heavens were not silent. They poured power into the world—embers of divine flame. Each ember chose a living vessel. A bearer."
Aaric's heartbeat quickened.
Seron continued. "Most embers vanished over time. But one remained unclaimed… until the sky bled crimson last night."
Aaric touched the symbol. "Why would something like that choose me? I'm not a warrior… I can't control anything."
Seron knelt in front of him, eyes gentle. "Power does not choose strength. It chooses need."
Aaric blinked. "Need?"
"Yes." Seron's voice softened. "There is a storm coming. A darkness that swallows the divine flames. The Heaven Ember seeks a soul capable of resisting that darkness. Someone whose heart refuses to bow."
Aaric looked away. "But I did bow. I was terrified. I ran."
"Running from death is not weakness," Seron said quietly. "It is survival."
Aaric took a shaky breath. "So… what now? Will more creatures hunt me?"
Seron's expression darkened. "Many. The Flame Maw was only the first. And worse things will come. Beasts born from forgotten hatred. Hunters drawn to the Ember's light."
Aaric felt his stomach twist. "Then teach me. Teach me how to stop them."
Seron smiled faintly. "A good answer. But learning to control a Heaven Ember is not like learning a skill. It is like taming a storm. One wrong step… and it will burn you from within."
Aaric nodded slowly. "Then I'll take that risk. I won't let anyone die because of me."
Seron studied him, nodded with approval, and motioned toward the cave wall. "Then your training begins now."
Aaric stood, uncertain.
"First lesson," Seron said, raising a finger. "The Ember responds to emotion. When you panic, it panics. When you fear, it becomes unstable."
Aaric whispered, "Like last night…"
"Exactly. You didn't summon the explosion—it escaped from you."
Seron tapped Aaric's chest lightly. "You must learn to anchor your heart before you control the flame."
Aaric frowned. "How do I anchor my heart?"
Seron smiled. "Sit."
Aaric awkwardly sat cross-legged on the ground.
"Close your eyes," Seron instructed.
Aaric obeyed.
"Now, breathe. Slow. Deep. Listen to the fire inside you."
Aaric tried. At first, all he heard was his own heartbeat… fast, uneven. Then, faintly, he sensed a warmth lingering inside his chest—unsteady, restless, like a frightened animal.
Seron's voice echoed softly. "Do not push it away. Let it know you're not its enemy."
Aaric whispered in his mind.
*I'm not afraid of you…*
The warmth flickered.
Then surged.
Pain shot through Aaric's arm. His eyes flew open. Flames burst from his hand, wild and unpredictable.
Seron reacted instantly, slamming his staff against the ground. Blue energy enveloped Aaric's arm, suppressing the fire.
Aaric gasped. "I—I couldn't control it…"
Seron steadied him. "You will fail a hundred times before you succeed once. That is normal."
Aaric clenched his jaw. "I won't give up."
"Good," Seron said. "Because the Ember has already acknowledged you. It will not leave. Nor can you abandon it."
Aaric nodded.
But their moment of calm shattered instantly.
A deafening roar echoed outside the cave. Not the Flame Maw—something deeper, heavier, as if the earth itself was growling.
Seron's face turned pale. "No. Not this soon…"
Aaric tensed. "What is it?"
Seron grabbed his staff. "A Scorchback. A territorial beast. It must have been drawn by last night's explosion."
The roar came again—closer now.
Aaric's pulse hammered. "Can your barrier stop it?"
Seron hesitated. "…For a moment. But only a moment."
Aaric stood beside him, fists trembling. "Then I'll fight too."
Seron turned sharply. "No. You barely survived your own flame."
"But if I don't try," Aaric said, voice steady but scared, "I'll never learn. And you'll die protecting me again."
Seron stared at him—then nodded reluctantly.
"Stay behind me. And whatever happens, anchor your heart."
The roar erupted again, shaking the ground.
As the enormous shadow emerged from the forest, Aaric felt the Ember inside him stir—stronger than before, almost… eager.
And with fear and determination battling inside him, Aaric whispered:
"Alright… let's see what we can do."
The cave entrance exp
loded in a storm of dust and fire.
A new battle began.
And the Ember awakened a little more.
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