The Keeper's Warning
The boy's hands still burned with the golden fire he had unleashed. His heart pounded as he stared at the fading embers, realization settling in—this was only the beginning.
The Keeper approached, his expression unreadable.
"You are awakening faster than I expected."
The boy's jaw tightened. "What is happening to me?"
The Keeper studied him for a long moment before finally speaking.
"The power within you is not merely an inheritance—it is a force bound by fate, sealed for centuries, waiting for a vessel strong enough to wield it. But it is not without cost."
The boy frowned. "Cost?"
The Keeper gestured toward the blackened remains of the Hound. "Your flames did more than destroy—it devoured. That is the nature of your bloodline's power. It does not simply burn; it consumes."
A cold shiver ran down the boy's spine.
"If you continue down this path without control, without understanding, you will not merely kill your enemies—you will become something far worse."
The boy clenched his fists. "I don't care."
The Keeper's expression darkened. "You should."
A sudden tremor shook the chamber, dust falling from the ancient walls. The Keeper exhaled sharply.
"They are coming. We must move."
The boy hesitated. He had spent his life running, hiding. But something inside him screamed—no more.
This time, he would not run.
This time, he would fight.
---
The Hunters Close In
Far above, in the ruined city's remains, a figure stood atop the highest tower. Cloaked in shifting shadows, his crimson eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
"The boy is no longer prey," Malagar murmured. "He is beginning to awaken."
Beside him, a second figure—a woman with silver scars etched across her face—smirked. "Then we must break him before he grows into something we cannot contain."
Malagar's gaze turned downward, where the remnants of his forces gathered. Hounds prowled in the darkness, their hunger unfulfilled. Elite hunters—warriors bound to the Council's will—sharpened their blades, preparing for the hunt.
"We strike now," Malagar declared. "The Forsaken Bloodline ends tonight."
The shadows behind him shifted. Then, one by one, the hunters vanished into the night.
---
Seraphina's Decision
Deep within the ancient ruins, Seraphina stood before the flickering portal. Her golden eyes reflected the unstable magic as it pulsed in rhythmic waves.
She could still hear the words of her older self.
"If you do not embrace this power, it will consume you."
Seraphina exhaled slowly.
She had felt it—the hunger, the pull of something deeper. The whispers of those who came before her, urging her to take hold of her destiny.
But was it truly her destiny, or was she simply following the same path as those who had fallen before her?
Her hands curled into fists.
"No more hesitation."
She stepped into the portal.
The time for doubt was over.
The war was already beginning.
---
The First Battle
The boy had barely taken a step when the shadows surged forward.
They came from the walls, the ceiling, the cracks in the ancient stone—writhing masses of darkness taking shape into humanoid figures.
Their eyes glowed with a predatory light.
The boy's breath hitched.
The Hunters had arrived.
The first one lunged.
The boy barely dodged the attack, feeling the wind rush past his face. He spun, his instincts screaming. Before he could react, another closed in—its dagger flashing toward his throat.
A burst of golden fire erupted from his palm, colliding with the attacker. The figure let out a shriek as it was engulfed.
The boy stumbled back, his breathing heavy.
There were too many.
The Keeper moved beside him, his hands weaving ancient symbols into the air. A barrier flickered to life, momentarily holding back the oncoming wave.
"You are not strong enough to fight them all," the Keeper said. "Not yet."
The boy's jaw clenched. "Then tell me what I must do."
The Keeper's gaze held something unreadable.
"Survive."
Then he pushed the boy back—just as the barrier shattered.
The darkness rushed forward.
And the battle for the last heir truly began.
---
Baptism of Shadows
The Keeper's Sacrifice
The moment the barrier shattered, the tide of darkness surged forward.
The boy barely had time to react as the first Hunter lunged. A clawed hand slashed toward him—too fast to dodge.
Then, a golden light erupted between them.
The Keeper stood in the path, his hands outstretched, channeling an immense force. His expression was resolute, his form glowing with power.
"You must go!" he bellowed.
The boy's eyes widened. "No! I can fight!"
The Keeper turned his head slightly, just enough for the boy to see the exhaustion in his eyes. The weight of centuries pressed against his soul, yet still, he stood.
"Not yet. But you will."
With a powerful gesture, the Keeper's body ignited in golden flames. The darkness recoiled, screaming as the light seared through them.
The Hunters hesitated for only a moment.
Then they attacked as one.
The Keeper met them head-on. His staff whirled, sending shockwaves of force through the chamber. Each step he took shattered the ground beneath him.
But the boy could see it—he was buying time.
"Run, you fool!" the Keeper roared.
The boy's hands trembled. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to fight alongside the man who had guided him this far.
But he knew the truth.
If he stayed, they would both die.
With gritted teeth, the boy turned and ran, disappearing into the collapsing corridors.
The last thing he heard was the Keeper's voice.
"Live, Forsaken One. Live, and make them fear you."
Then the light vanished.
And the chamber fell into silence.
---
Seraphina's Trial
The portal spat Seraphina out into an endless void.
She stumbled, barely catching herself. The air was thick, heavy with unseen energy.
Then, voices whispered around her.
"You are not ready."
"You hesitate, and hesitation is death."
"Your ancestors fell. You will fall, too."
Seraphina clenched her fists. "No."
She pushed forward.
The darkness shifted, forming figures around her—shadowy silhouettes, wielding weapons from a time long forgotten.
They lunged.
Seraphina moved on instinct. Her blade ignited with golden fire as she met the first strike. Sparks danced in the void as steel clashed against steel.
She spun, slicing through one shadow, then another. But they did not stop.
They reformed.
No matter how many she cut down, they rose again.
Her breath came fast. She was fighting ghosts—memories of warriors who had once walked this path.
"You are not worthy."
She grit her teeth.
"Then I will make myself worthy."
The golden fire in her veins flared.
And this time, when she struck, the shadows did not rise again.
---
Malagar's Pursuit
Malagar stood before the ruined chamber, his gaze sweeping over the carnage.
The Keeper was gone.
The boy had escaped.
He exhaled slowly. "Predictable."
The Hunters knelt before him, awaiting his command.
"Follow him," Malagar ordered. "He is not yet strong enough to be a true threat."
A Hunter hesitated. "But, my lord… he is changing."
Malagar turned his gaze to the Hunter, and in an instant, the figure convulsed—his body warping, disintegrating into nothing.
The others remained still.
"You doubt me?" Malagar's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of absolute authority.
The Hunters bowed lower.
"No, my lord."
Malagar smiled.
"Then find him."
The shadows around him writhed.
And the hunt continued.
---
The Boy's Resolve
The boy ran until his legs burned, until his breath came in ragged gasps.
The underground corridors stretched endlessly, the walls whispering forgotten secrets.
Then, at last, he emerged into the open.
The night sky greeted him, vast and endless.
But he was not alone.
Ahead, on the horizon, lights flickered. A city. A place where he could hide, recover… and plan.
He clenched his fists.
The world had turned against him.
But he would not fall.
He would not run forever.
He would become the nightmare they feared.
The last heir of the Forsaken Bloodline had begun his ascent.
The City of Thieves
The Hidden Path
The boy stumbled through the underbrush, his breath ragged. His legs ached, but he refused to stop. Behind him, the howls of the Hunters still echoed through the night.
The city was close. He could see its flickering lights through the trees, the towering walls looming in the distance.
But he could not enter through the main gate.
The empire would be watching for him.
His fingers traced the mark on his wrist—the ancient sigil that had burned into his flesh when his power first stirred. He could feel it pulsing, reacting to something unseen.
Then he saw it.
A narrow, crumbling path leading beneath the walls.
He moved quickly, ducking under broken wooden beams and wading through stagnant water. Rats scurried at his feet. The scent of decay filled the air.
But it was safe.
For now.
---
The City's Heartbeat
He emerged into a dark alleyway. The city pulsed with life around him—merchants shouting in the markets, drunks staggering from taverns, cloaked figures whispering in the shadows.
It was unlike anything he had ever seen.
The city was alive.
But it was also dangerous.
He pulled his hood lower, keeping to the side streets. He had nothing—no coin, no shelter, no allies.
And worst of all, he could feel something watching him.
Someone knew he was here.
---
Seraphina's Warning
Far away, in the ruins of the Ancients, Seraphina awoke with a gasp.
Pain lanced through her chest, as if something—someone—had called to her.
She clutched at her ribs, eyes narrowing.
"The boy..."
She could feel him.
The Forsaken Bloodline stirred.
And if she could feel it—so could the enemy.
She had no choice.
She had to find him first.
Before Malagar did.
---
The Queen of Shadows
The boy had only taken a few steps before a voice stopped him.
"You look lost."
He spun, instinctively reaching for a weapon he did not have.
A woman stood before him, draped in silken shadows. Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement.
"I don't know you," he said cautiously.
"No," she mused, stepping closer. "But I know you."
The air between them crackled with something unspoken.
She smiled.
"You are the last of your kind."
His breath caught.
He had been careful. He had hidden himself well.
But she had seen through him.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The woman's smile widened.
"Some call me the Queen of Shadows."
Her fingers trailed through the air, leaving wisps of darkness in their wake.
"I think you and I are going to be very good friends."
The boy took a step back, his pulse pounding.
But he knew the truth.
He needed an ally.
Even if she was dangerous.
Even if she was something worse.