Absolutely!
Chapter 5: The Fire and the Hunt
The trees in northern Virginia loomed tall and quiet, cloaked in the silence that came before storms. Landon moved through the underbrush beside Hope, their footsteps light but deliberate. Behind them, Kaleb, MG, and Lizzie spread out, scanning the woods with sharpened senses and magic at the ready.
The mission had started simple enough: track down reports of strange symbols burned into trees and animals found frozen mid-motion, as if turned to stone. Signs of powerful magic—or something older.
Landon clutched the phoenix blade tight. Even sheathed, it pulsed against his back, like it knew something was coming.
He didn't know if he was ready.
But he knew he wouldn't run.
---
MG crouched beside a charred stump, his vampire senses scanning. "We've got symbols here. Burned deep. Way too precise for lightning."
Hope moved closer, murmuring an identification spell. The lines on the wood glowed faint gold, rearranging in her vision.
Her breath caught. "These aren't just symbols. They're marks of passage."
"Passage for what?" Kaleb asked.
Landon stepped forward, eyes locked on the runes. "I saw these in the bunker. They're Phoenix Order runes."
Kaleb raised a brow. "Thought you said that Order was long gone."
"They were. But these are fresh," Landon said.
Hope's voice was steady. "That means someone's reviving them."
MG looked around. "We need to move. I don't like standing still this long."
As if on cue, a sound cracked through the trees.
Not a twig.
Not a branch.
It was a scream.
Human.
High. Piercing. Cut short.
The team froze. Lizzie's eyes flared with alarm. "Southwest. 50 yards."
Hope didn't wait for Alaric's green light. "Go!"
---
They sprinted through the trees. Landon's heart pounded, adrenaline rising like fire in his blood. Every instinct told him to run faster. To find whoever needed help.
They burst into a clearing—and stopped dead.
A man lay on the ground, his body scorched and steaming. Around him stood three figures in dark red robes, faces hidden beneath feathered masks.
Landon stepped forward, blade drawn.
The tallest of the figures turned, as if expecting him. "So… the Phoenix awakens."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
Hope raised her hand, magic crackling between her fingers. "Who are you?"
"We are what remains," the figure said. "What rises when others fall. The Order watches again."
Kaleb growled. "Step away from the body. Now."
The figure ignored him. "Landon Kirby. Blood of fire. Descendant of the Hunt. We have searched long for you."
Landon raised his blade. "Well, congrats. You found me."
The figure tilted his head. "The question is… will you rise? Or burn?"
Without warning, the Order members attacked.
---
They moved fast—too fast for normal humans. The tall one charged Landon, a curved blade igniting in his hand. Landon barely blocked the strike, the phoenix blade hissing as metal met metal.
Sparks flew.
Landon gritted his teeth and shoved back, but the man was strong—inhumanly so. Landon spun, ducked another strike, and slashed low, nicking the man's leg.
The Order member hissed, stepping back. "Good. You have fire."
To his left, Hope unleashed a blast of magic that sent one attacker flying into a tree. Lizzie and MG flanked the last one, tag-teaming with spells and speed until the man collapsed in a burst of enchanted smoke.
But the tall one—the leader—fought with purpose.
He lunged again. This time, his blade met Landon's shoulder. Landon cried out but didn't fall. Heat rushed to the surface of his skin. The wound burned—then healed almost instantly.
The man paused, intrigued. "Ah. Rebirth. Just like the legends."
Landon's eyes burned golden. "You know nothing about me."
He slammed the phoenix blade into the man's chest.
Flames erupted from the wound. The figure staggered back, screaming—not in pain, but in what sounded like joy.
"You are the one," he gasped. "The Ash-Born King…"
Then he vanished in a pillar of flame—leaving only ash behind.
Landon stood panting, the fire slowly fading from his blade.
The clearing went silent.
MG knelt beside the fallen man. "He's dead. Drained. Burned inside out."
Hope approached Landon, placing a hand on his arm. "You okay?"
Landon shook, not from fear—but from the energy still surging in his veins. "He called me 'Ash-Born King.' Said they were looking for me."
Hope frowned. "Sounds like prophecy nonsense."
Kaleb scanned the ash pile. "Well, prophecy or not, that guy moved like he'd been training for decades."
Landon looked at the burned spot in the earth.
Something had awakened.
And it was looking straight at him.
---
Back at the school, Alaric listened with a dark expression as they recounted the attack. He tapped the page of Dean's journal where the Phoenix Order had been briefly mentioned.
"They were fanatics. Hunted immortals and supernatural 'anomalies.' Believed in burning the impure, and worshiped fire as a divine cleanser. Long dead—or so we thought."
Landon sat quietly. His shoulder still ached, but it was healing faster each time.
"They knew me," he said softly. "Not just my powers. They knew my name."
Alaric looked at him. "That's why we need to keep training. They're watching now. And if they believe you're some kind of prophesied leader…"
Hope finished the thought. "They'll either want to follow him—or kill him."
Landon nodded. "Then we don't wait for them to choose. We prepare."
---
Over the next week, Landon threw himself into training like never before.
He rose before dawn, running laps around the school grounds until his legs burned. He practiced blade drills with Kaleb. Learned defensive enchantments from Hope. Sparred against MG's speed and strength.
He read every hunter log in the bunker Alaric had digitized.
He even watched old security footage of Dean and Sam on hunts—grainy video clips, grainy sound, but real. Raw. Inspiring.
"I don't want to just be lucky anymore," he told Raf one night. "I want to earn it."
"You're already doing that," Raf said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just… don't lose yourself trying to be them. Be you."
---
One morning, while meditating with the phoenix blade in front of him, Landon saw something behind his eyes.
Not a memory.
A vision.
Fire.
Stone halls lined with torches. Figures kneeling in rows. A throne made of bone and flame.
At the center, a figure sat—a younger version of Landon. But his eyes were burning gold. And behind him, the phoenix symbol rose high, shaped from living fire.
Landon gasped and broke the trance.
Hope rushed to his side. "What did you see?"
He hesitated. "I think… I saw who they want me to become."
"Who?"
Landon looked up. "The Ash-Born King."
Hope frowned. "And do you want to be that?"
Landon looked down at his hands. "I want to protect people. I want to be strong. But I don't want to lose who I am."
"Then hold onto it," Hope said gently. "Because if you don't, the fire will take it for you."
---
That night, Landon stood outside on the school balcony, watching stars twinkle against the velvet sky. The blade leaned against the railing beside him.
He didn't feel like the same boy who arrived at the Salvatore School.
Didn't feel like the same lost kid who kept dying.
He was changing.
And this time, it wasn't about powers or bloodlines.
It was about choice.
He picked up the blade, feeling its warmth.
A spark danced on his fingertips, golden and alive.
Hope joined him quietly, slipping beside him.
He glanced at her, smiling softly. "Do you think Dean or Sam ever felt ready?"
Hope shook her head. "Probably not. But they kept going. And they didn't go alone."
He reached out, lacing his fingers with hers. "Then neither will I."
As the stars looked on and the blade glowed faintly in the dark…
Landon Kirby—the Phoenix, the hunter, the maybe-someday Ash-Born King—stood ready for whatever came next.
---
End of Chapter 5