Chapter 1: The Night of Falling Stars
In the land of Eldros, where the skies burned with three suns and the mountains breathed ancient magic, there existed a boy named Kael who had never seen the stars. For centuries, the stars were hidden by the endless storms that cloaked the skies—a divine punishment, the elders said, for the sins of the old kings.
Kael lived in a quiet village on the edge of the Ashen Wastes, where people feared the old ruins and whispered of cursed bloodlines. But Kael felt different. He had dreams—vivid visions of fire, wings, and a shadowed throne. Dreams that left his hands burning with heat every time he woke.
On the night of his sixteenth birthday, the skies changed.
For the first time in centuries, the clouds parted. A thousand stars lit up the heavens—and among them, one star fell. But it was no ordinary star. It was a burning fragment of the old world, screaming through the sky and crashing into the forest beyond the village.
Kael didn't hesitate.
Drawn by a force he couldn't explain, he ran through the night, heart pounding, eyes glowing faintly with a golden flame. In the crater, surrounded by charred trees, lay a blade—ancient, whispering, alive.
The moment his fingers touched its hilt, the world shook. The air turned heavy. The earth trembled.
And deep beneath Eldros, something awakened.
---
Chapter 2: The Blade That Whispers
The moment Kael touched the blade, his vision exploded into light.
He was no longer in the forest.
He stood atop a mountain of black stone, surrounded by war. Armies clashed below him—creatures of fire and shadow tearing through knights clad in silver and gold. In the sky, dragons roared, their wings blotting out the sun. And in the center of it all stood a figure in dark crimson armor, holding the same blade Kael now gripped.
"You are the Ashborn," the voice echoed—not in the air, but inside Kael's mind. "The last spark of flame in a dying world."
Kael gasped, dropping the blade. He stumbled back, heart racing, breath uneven. The sword pulsed on the ground, glowing faintly with orange runes that hadn't been there before.
"What… what are you?" he whispered.
The blade answered. "I am Ignarion, Flame of the First King. And you, child, are my final bearer."
Kael didn't understand. He was just a farmer's son. A nobody. But deep inside, something else stirred. A memory not his own. A fire that had slept too long.
Before he could think, a sound came from the woods—footsteps. Heavy. Armored.
He grabbed the sword.
A group of men in black cloaks emerged from the trees. Their eyes glowed faint red, and their breath steamed unnaturally in the summer night.
"The Flame has awakened," one of them hissed. "Kill the boy before the prophecy lives."
Kael didn't wait.
The blade moved as if it remembered war. It danced in his hands, burning through the air. He slashed once—and the nearest attacker burst into embers.
For the first time in his life, Kael felt it. Power. Rage. Fire.
But when the last of them fell, and the silence returned, Kael looked down at his hands—smoking, shaking, no longer his.
The world of Eldros had changed.
And Kael Ashborn was at the center of it.
---
Chapter 3: The Shadowbound
Kael ran.
Not from fear, but from something deeper—confusion, power, and the realization that his life could never return to what it once was.
The sword, Ignarion, hummed with warmth against his back, slung in a makeshift sheath. He didn't know where to go, but his feet took him north, toward the ancient city of Virelen, whispered in his village as the last place the flame once flickered.
As the sun dipped behind the trees, Kael reached a broken stone bridge. It spanned a chasm so deep he couldn't see the bottom, only a swirling mist below.
There, standing in the middle of the bridge, was a girl.
She wore a long dark coat, blades strapped to both hips, and her hair was silver as moonlight. Her eyes narrowed as Kael approached.
"You're holding it, aren't you?" she asked.
Kael stopped. "Who are you?"
"I'm Elira. Shadowbound. Sworn to kill the Flamebearer… or protect him. Depending on what you are."
Kael blinked. "Depending?"
She nodded. "If you lose control, you become what the prophecy fears. A Pyreborn—one who burns the world."
Kael gripped the hilt of Ignarion. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
"That's not the point," Elira said, stepping closer. "The flame wants what it wants. And it's hungry."
---
Chapter 4: Ember Dreams
That night, Kael dreamed.
He stood in a ruined temple, fire curling around pillars of stone. A voice echoed through the heat.
"Let it burn, Kael. Let the world fall, and rise anew in flame."
He turned—and saw himself. But older, eyes glowing like molten gold, body clad in black fire. The older Kael raised Ignarion and pointed it at the stars.
"They feared the flame because they could not control it."
Kael jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Elira sat by the fire, sharpening her blades, watching him.
"You dreamed," she said without turning.
He nodded.
"You saw yourself, didn't you?"
"…Yes."
"It's always like that," she muttered. "The flame shows you what you could become. The real battle isn't with others—it's with that version of you."
Kael stared into the fire, heart heavy. "What if I can't win?"
Elira finally looked at him. "Then we're all dead."
Outside the circle of firelight, the forest whispered. Watching. Waiting.
Eldros had chosen its player.
And the game had begun.
---
Chapter 5: The Forgotten Flame
Days passed as Kael and Elira journeyed through the dense forests of Eldros, inching closer to Virelen. Along the way, they encountered ruins swallowed by nature, whispers of the past buried in vines and ash.
One evening, they found shelter in a crumbling stone tower. As the wind howled outside, Kael noticed Elira gazing at the stars with an unusual softness.
"Ever wonder what the world was like before the flames?" she asked quietly.
Kael shook his head. "I never had time to wonder. Just survive."
She chuckled. "Typical Flamebearer."
He looked at her. "Is that all I am to you? A task?"
Elira hesitated. "You're... more now. I didn't plan on that."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was charged—raw. In that moment, something unspoken passed between them. Something dangerous.
Later that night, as Kael dozed, Elira slipped outside. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a crystal shard, glowing with faint violet light.
A shadow appeared behind her. "Did you mark him?" asked a raspy voice.
Elira's eyes darkened. "Yes. When the time comes, I'll deliver him to the Obsidian Court."
"And the sword?"
She glanced back at the tower. "He's growing attached. Soon, breaking him will be easy."
---
Chapter 6: War Calls the Flame
The gates of Virelen loomed tall and broken, etched with runes that pulsed faintly as Kael approached. The city was abandoned, but something lingered—an energy, deep and alive.
Inside the central spire, Kael found murals carved in obsidian, telling the story of the Ashborn: warriors who wielded the Eternal Flame, once protectors… then destroyers.
As he reached out to touch the carvings, the ground trembled.
Horns blared in the distance.
Elira burst into the chamber. "They found us. The Ash Vanguard—they've launched a full assault on Virelen."
Kael's heart pounded. "Why now?"
"Because you've awakened the city," she said. "And the sword is
---
Chapter 7: The Echo Within
The battle raged for hours.
Kael's sword danced with flames, cleaving through enemy after enemy. Each strike seemed to burn brighter, as if the sword was feeding on his fury. Virelen's ruins trembled with magic, awakening long-forgotten powers buried beneath stone and time.
But something changed when Kael faced the Ash Vanguard's commander—an armored figure wielding a blade of obsidian and frost.
The clash of swords sent shockwaves across the plaza.
"You're not ready," the commander growled. "Your fire is untamed."
Kael's chest burned. His mind spun. Then it hit him—visions not his own. A memory buried deep inside: a boy taken from fire, raised in chains, experimented upon by mages seeking to control the Eternal Flame.
He staggered.
The commander raised his blade for the killing blow—but a barrier of violet light intercepted the strike.
Elira stood between them, panting. "No one touches him."
The commander laughed coldly. "Even traitors can fall in love."
Then he vanished into smoke.
Kael stared at Elira, trembling. "What was he talking about?"
Her eyes shimmered with guilt. "There's something you need to know…"
---
Chapter 8: Truth and Embers
They took shelter in a hollowed temple that night. Kael sat near the dying fire, refusing to meet Elira's gaze.
"I was sent to betray you," she said softly. "By the Obsidian Court. My mission was to deliver you… and the sword."
Kael didn't respond.
"But I didn't expect to care," she continued. "Didn't expect you to fight for people who've only taken from you."
"I trusted you," Kael muttered. "You marked me, Elira. What else did you lie about?"
She stepped closer. "Not this." She took his hand and placed it over her heart. "This is real."
The fire flickered, casting shadows on the walls.
Before Kael could respond, the flames flared unnaturally—and a voice echoed through the chamber. A deep, ancient voice.
"Flamebearer… you are the last heir of Eldros. The last Ashborn king."
The sword pulsed in his hands.
Kael's world shifted again.
He wasn't just a survivor.
He was a king—betrayed, erased from history, born of fire… and destined to bring either salvation or ruin.
---
Chapter 9: The Ashborn King
The vision of the voice still echoed in Kael's mind.
"You are the last heir…"
Morning broke over the ruined temple, but sleep never came. Kael stood alone at the edge of a cliff, watching smoke rise from distant villages. Elira approached, her steps soft on broken stone.
"You felt it too," she said. "Didn't you?"
He nodded. "I saw fire devour a kingdom. I saw a boy… a throne… and betrayal."
She inhaled sharply. "Then it's true. The legends weren't lies."
Kael turned to her. "If I really am the Ashborn King… why was I hidden? Why erased?"
Elira's voice trembled. "Because your family tried to end the Age of Mages. They believed power belonged to all, not the elite. They were hunted for it."
The sword pulsed at his side, alive with memory.
"If they wanted me gone," Kael whispered, "then I'll rise. Not as a prince seeking revenge… but as a king they never saw coming."
---
Chapter 10: The Gathering Storm
Far to the east, beyond the Ashen Plains, in a fortress carved from black stone, a council met in secret.
Nine cloaked figures stood before a circular flame.
"He awakens," said one, voice distorted by magic.
"The Ashborn line should have died centuries ago," spat another.
"He has the Emberblade," a third added grimly. "And the sorceress is with him."
A figure emerged from the shadows—tall, silver-haired, with a mark of lightning etched into his neck.
"We underestimated him," he said. "We won't make that mistake again."
This was Lord Kareth, High Inquisitor of the Obsidian Court—the one who led the purge of Kael's bloodline.
"I want him found," Kareth ordered. "And I want the sword broken. Gather the Dreadbinders. Let the world remember fear."
---
Chapter 11: The Whispering Forest
Kael and Elira journeyed into the Whispering Forest—a place untouched by sunlight and feared by all who lived near it. The trees whispered in languages long forgotten, and even the wind carried secrets.
"This place feels alive," Kael muttered, hand on his sword.
"It is," Elira replied. "This forest remembers. It hides what the world wants to forget."
As they ventured deeper, a presence followed them—neither animal nor human. Then, without warning, vines lashed from the trees, pinning Kael against a trunk.
A voice spoke from the mist. "Who dares enter the domain of the Veilborn?"
Elira raised her hand, flames flickering in her palm. "We seek only guidance. We carry no lies."
From the shadows stepped a figure—a tall woman cloaked in moss and stars. Her eyes glowed like silver moons.
"I am Serya," she said. "Last of the Veilborn druids. The land speaks to me… and it screams your name, Ashborn."
Kael's heart pounded. "Will you help us?"
Serya narrowed her eyes. "That depends… will you listen to the forest when it screams?"
---
Chapter 12: Blood Oath
Meanwhile, in the ruined fortress of Haldrak, Kareth stood before an ancient altar. Blood dripped onto runes that hadn't glowed in centuries.
Behind him, nine assassins knelt—silent, masked, bound by shadow.
"You are now the Dreadbinders," he declared. "Bound not by flesh, but by purpose."
The ground trembled. Black flames spiraled up from the altar, sinking into the skin of each assassin, burning sigils into their bones.
"They will call you monsters," Kareth said, eyes glowing with malice. "But you… you will be gods."
He raised a dark crystal above his head. "Find the boy. Break the sword. Burn the prophecy."
---
Kael now has allies—mystical and wise. But the enemy sharpens their blades in the dark, and the war to come will not be won by sword alone.
---
Chapter 13: The Meeting with the Guardian
After a long journey, Aldrin finally reached the place known as the "Cursed Forest," where the last flame of Eldros was believed to be hidden. The weather grew darker, and the wind carried whispers that seemed to tell forgotten tales from long ago. Amidst the forest, a faint light appeared through the thick fog.
Aldrin, once hesitant, approached the light and found a massive stone statue. In front of the statue, an old man appeared, dressed in black robes, his eyes glowing like stars. He stared at Aldrin with a sharp gaze, as though he could see right through his soul.
"Aldrin," the man spoke, his voice echoing through the air, "You come seeking the last flame, but what you seek is more than just power. That flame is not for everyone."
Aldrin was taken aback. "How do you know my name?"
"I am the guardian of this flame, and only those truly ready can find it," the man replied. "The power of Eldros' flame is not to be misused. If you intend to wield it to destroy, you should leave now."
Aldrin felt a heavy burden settle upon him, as though a new trial had just begun. "I don't wish to destroy. I only want to protect this world from the darkness that is closing in."
The Guardian stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "The true test is in controlling the flame within yourself. If you fail, this world will fall in an instant."
Aldrin felt the weight of those words. What he sought now was not just the flame, but the true understanding of what he would do with such power.
---
Chapter 14: The Flame that Tests the Soul
Aldrin's steps grew heavier as he approached the center of the Cursed Forest, where the last flame of Eldros was concealed. The Guardian followed him, keeping his distance, but watching closely. Before them, a large cave appeared, its mouth dark and mysterious, as if it swallowed all light.
"Within this cave, you will face the final trial," said the Guardian. "None can avoid it. The flame will test your heart, it will test your soul."
Aldrin entered the cave. The atmosphere inside felt dense, as if the air itself was filled with energy that could change anyone who entered. The Eldros flame, as told in the legends, was said to grant unimaginable power, but also the potential to destroy any soul that was unprepared.
At the center of the cave, a massive flame burned brightly, but it was no ordinary fire. Its blue light shone intensely, as if it contained thousands of years of wisdom and destruction. Aldrin felt its pull, as though the flame itself was calling to him.
But as he stepped closer, shadows from his past began to appear, tempting his thoughts. The faces of those he had saved and those he had lost emerged one by one. Voices from a world that seemed to beg him to choose between power that could either save or destroy.
Aldrin felt his heart torn. "Am I strong enough to control this flame?" he wondered. As he reached out to grasp it, the entire world seemed to stop. The flame coursed through his body, merging with him, and he felt an immense power swell inside him.
Yet, amidst the power, something disturbed him—the whispers reminding him of his own vulnerabilities, his fears of losing control. A true trial did not only test physical strength but also the ability to withstand its greatest temptations.
Aldrin closed his eyes and prayed, focusing on his true purpose: to protect this world, not to destroy it.
With renewed determination, he managed to master the flame, and the blue light began to subside, turning into a more stable, warm, and hopeful fire.
The Guardian appeared behind him, offering a thin smile. "You have passed, Aldrin. The Eldros flame is now yours, and with it, you will face even greater challenges."
Aldrin felt the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders, but he knew this was just the beginning of a much longer journey. "I am ready," he replied, his voice filled with resolve.
---
Chapter 15: The Power Unleashed
After mastering the Eldros flame, Aldrin felt like the world around him had changed. His body was filled with an incredible power, but he also felt the immense pressure inside him. Outside the cave, the Guardian stood, waiting.
"You've managed to control the flame," the Guardian said, his voice firm, "but remember, this isn't a power you can control so easily. It comes with trials far greater than what you've faced."
Aldrin nodded, though his heart was still full of doubt. "I just want to protect this world. I don't want to become like those who use power to destroy."
The Guardian looked at him seriously. "That's the true test. This power can bring peace or destruction. The choice is in your hands."
Aldrin stared at the flame still flickering in his hand, feeling the weight of the responsibility now resting on him. But he knew he couldn't turn back. The world needed protection, and he had to be the one to provide it.
---
Chapter 16: Shadows that Follow
Aldrin's journey was far from over. With the Eldros flame now his, he felt stronger, but also more isolated. He knew many would not be happy with the power he now held. There were forces that would try to take it from him, or even destroy him.
As he made his way back, Aldrin felt something following him. Dark shadows at the edge of his vision. He quickened his pace, but the shadows seemed to close in on him. Suddenly, from behind a tree, a familiar figure emerged. It was Thalia, an old friend he hadn't seen in years.
"Thalia?" Aldrin was shocked, a mix of relief and confusion flooding his mind. "What are you doing here? I thought you…"
Thalia smiled faintly, but there was something different in her eyes. "I knew you'd come here, Aldrin. I also know about the flame. But you need to understand, there are people who won't let you live with that power."
Aldrin felt a knot form in his stomach. "What do you mean? Who's after the flame?"
Thalia sighed deeply, her eyes distant as if remembering something dark. "There's a group called 'The Shadow's Edge.' They've been after the Eldros flame for a long time. And they won't stop until they have it."
Aldrin felt a wave of concern hit him. He needed to act fast. The world wouldn't be safe if the flame fell into the wrong hands.
"So, what do I do?" Aldrin asked, his voice resolute.
"Protect the flame with your life, Aldrin," Thalia replied, "Because if they get their hands on it, the world will never be the same."
---
Chapter 17: Whispers of the Forgotten Flame
The wind howled through the ruins of Solmere, carrying ash and memory across the shattered stones. Eldros stood still at the center of the once-mighty fortress, his cloak torn, his gauntlets scorched. All around him, the echoes of the battle still clung to the air — the screams, the clash of steel, the roar of fire.
But now, silence.
He knelt beside a broken column, pressing his palm into the bloodstained earth. It was still warm.
"Too many have fallen," he whispered. "And still, the flame demands more."
Behind him, footsteps — soft, deliberate. It was Kaelen, the last surviving Flamebound of the Eastern Order. His eyes were rimmed with sorrow, but they burned with questions.
"You saw her, didn't you?" Kaelen asked, voice barely above a breath. "In the heart of the storm."
Eldros didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the red sun began to rise over the bones of the battlefield.
"Yes," he finally said. "She called to me from the flame… but it wasn't the Empress. It was something older. Something... ancient."
Kaelen stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then the legends are true. The Crimson Flame wasn't born — it was sealed."
Eldros nodded slowly. "And the seal is weakening."
Lightning cracked in the distance. Not from the sky, but from the mountains of Myr-Vareth — the old realm. The place where the Flame was first wielded... and where it was buried.
"I have to go there," Eldros muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
"Alone?" Kaelen asked. "You won't make it past the black ridges without help. You'll be hunted, Eldros. The Inquisitors have tasted your power — now they want it for themselves."
"Let them come," Eldros growled, standing. Fire pulsed faintly beneath his skin. "If the Forgotten Flame awakens, none of this will matter."
A long pause hung between them.
Kaelen clenched his fists. "Then I go with you. If the world is to burn, let me burn beside the one who dares to face it."
Eldros looked at him — really looked — and for the first time since the fall of Solmere, something like hope flickered behind his eyes.
"Then we leave at dawn," Eldros said. "To Myr-Vareth. To the source."
As the sun rose behind them, casting golden fire across the ruined land, two figures stood against the tide of destiny — broken, burned, but unyielding.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, something ancient stirred.
---
Chapter 18: The Road of Ash and Shadows
The path to Myr-Vareth was not marked on any map. It carved itself through blackened woods and forgotten valleys, veiled by mist and guarded by silence. Eldros and Kaelen moved like shadows beneath a dying sky, their steps quiet, but the weight of fate heavy on their backs.
For three days, they walked without rest. No fires. No camp. Only the cold and the ever-growing pressure in the air, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Kaelen broke the silence first.
"You feel it too, don't you? That... hum beneath the soil?"
Eldros nodded. "It's the Flame. It's leaking through the cracks of the old world."
They had reached the edge of the Ashlands — a wasteland born from the last Great Burning. Charred trees twisted like claws, and the ground crunched beneath their boots with the sound of brittle bones.
Suddenly, the sky above them split with a howl.
Dark shapes descended from the clouds — Flame Reavers. Corrupted warriors bound to the will of the Crimson Inquisition, their bodies half-flesh, half-cinder, and their eyes burning with madness.
Kaelen drew his blade. "We've been followed."
"No," Eldros said, his own flame flaring to life. "They've been waiting."
The first Reaver landed with a quake, its voice like molten steel:
"Eldros, Flameborn. The Inquisition commands your surrender. The ancient fire is not yours to awaken."
Eldros stepped forward, his eyes glowing gold, his voice calm but thunderous.
"Then come and take it."
What followed was fury.
Fire clashed with cursed steel. Kaelen danced between shadows, his blade singing through the ash. Eldros moved like a storm, every strike a burst of raw flame that scorched the ground and lit the sky. But the Reavers were relentless — they didn't bleed, and they didn't feel pain.
Just when the battle turned bleak, Kaelen was knocked back — hard — and pinned by a Reaver's burning spear.
"Eldros!" he shouted, blood spilling from his side.
With a roar, Eldros unleashed it — the Emberheart Flame, the rawest core of his power. The world blazed white for a moment. The Reavers screamed as their bodies were incinerated from within.
Silence returned… but not peace.
Eldros knelt by Kaelen's side. The wound was deep, but not fatal.
"We're close," Kaelen said through clenched teeth. "I can feel it… like it's calling us."
Eldros looked ahead. In the distance, beyond the curtain of ash, the jagged peaks of Myr-Vareth pierced the horizon.
But beneath them, in the hollows of the mountain, something waited.
Something that remembered fire older than time.
Something that remembered his name.
---
Chapter 19: Echoes Beneath the Flame
The entrance to Myr-Vareth yawned like the mouth of a dying god — wide, jagged, and dripping with heat. Blackened stone walls pulsed faintly, as if the mountain itself was breathing. Eldros stood at the threshold, the last winds of the outer world brushing against his cloak.
Kaelen leaned against his spear, his wound hastily wrapped in cloth, but his spirit unbroken.
"This is it," he muttered. "Once we go in, there's no turning back."
Eldros didn't answer. He stepped forward, and the mountain swallowed him whole.
Inside, darkness reigned — but not silence.
There were whispers in the flame-lit corridors. Whispers that called him by name. Whispers that knew his fears.
"Flameborn… Thief of destiny…"
The deeper they went, the hotter the air became. Memories burned on the walls — visions of a past Eldros didn't remember, of a war that happened long before his time. Thousands consumed by the Flame… a lone figure crowned in fire standing above a mountain of ash.
Kaelen stopped. "What is this place?"
Eldros whispered, "A graveyard... for gods."
At the chamber's heart stood an altar of obsidian, hovering above a molten abyss. Upon it — a sphere of pure fire, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The Flame of Origin.
As Eldros approached, the whispers grew louder, turning into voices, then into screams. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head as ancient memories — not his own — surged into him.
He saw the truth.
He was never chosen by the Flame. He was the Flame.
A reincarnation of a long-forgotten entity, sealed by the ancestors to protect the world from his wrath.
Kaelen staggered back, eyes wide. "What... what did you see?"
Eldros rose slowly, fire crackling beneath his skin. "I was meant to end the world… Not save it."
"But you fought for us. You bled for us."
"I thought I was defying fate. Turns out… I was fulfilling it."
The chamber trembled. The Flame of Origin surged with light — reacting to Eldros' presence. The seal was breaking. The world would burn.
Unless…
Unless he sacrificed himself to rebind the Flame — to become the seal once again.
Kaelen stepped forward. "There has to be another way!"
Eldros smiled — a sad, quiet smile.
"There always is. But this... is the only way that saves everyone."
Kaelen's fists clenched. "I won't let you do this alone."
"You already have. You've kept me human, Kaelen. That's more than anyone else ever did."
Without another word, Eldros stepped into the fire.
The chamber exploded in light.
The whispers screamed.
Then silence.
When the mountain calmed, Kaelen was alone. The altar was gone. The Flame of Origin… sealed once more.
And Eldros?
Only a faint ember remained, glowing at Kaelen's feet.
---
Chapter 20: The Ember That Remains
It had been seven days since the fire died.
Kaelen sat atop the cliffs of Myr-Vareth, staring into the horizon. Below him, the Ashlands were quiet. The winds carried no more whispers. The world had stopped burning — for now.
He clutched the ember in his hand — the last trace of Eldros. It glowed faintly, pulsing once every few moments, like a dying heartbeat. It didn't hurt to hold. It was warm… like a memory.
The leaders of the scattered kingdoms had gathered in the old city of Veorth to honor the fallen. But Kaelen didn't go. He couldn't. Not yet.
They spoke Eldros' name now with reverence. Some called him savior. Others — martyr. But none knew the full truth. None saw what Kaelen saw in that chamber.
They didn't see a god.
They saw a man.
A man who carried a burden he never asked for. Who chose to burn alone, so the world wouldn't.
A rider arrived at dusk — a young courier bearing a scroll sealed with silver.
Kaelen opened it slowly.
> "The balance is breaking again. Whispers stir in the West. We need a blade like yours."
– Council of the Flameguard
He folded the scroll and looked out at the dying sun.
"I'm done being someone's sword," he whispered.
Then, he looked at the ember again. It pulsed stronger — once.
Kaelen narrowed his eyes.
"Unless…"
He stood up, pocketed the ember, and turned away from the cliffs.
The world thought the Flame was gone. But Kaelen felt it — still alive, still waiting.
Maybe Eldros was never meant to live forever.
But his flame?
That was another story.
---
END OF VOLUME ONE.