Before the Harbinger, before the escape, before the truth bled through the seams of Kael's forgotten past... there was a child.
The forest beyond the Veilspire mountains had long been called the Hollowwood. Few ever ventured through it willingly not because of beasts or bandits, but because of the stillness. The kind of silence that watched you back.
Kael had felt it from the moment they entered: the trees here were tall and dead, petrified to stone, branches twisted like claws. No birds. No wind. Just the echo of each footstep swallowed by ash.
"Are we lost?" Tareth had grumbled.
"No," Kael answered, voice low. "We're being guided."
"By what?" Nyra asked from the rear. "The ghosts?"
But Kael hadn't replied. Something pulled him forward not in fear or urgency, but in grief. Like the land itself remembered something… or someone.
That was when they saw her.
A tiny figure sitting alone in the clearing ahead. Knees drawn to her chest. Pale hair falling over thin shoulders. Her dress was tattered linen, smeared in soot. Around her, the ground was burned clean. Trees within ten paces were blackened husks.
The girl looked up.
Her eyes burned amber.
Kael raised a hand, stopping the others. "Wait."
Tareth drew his blade anyway. "That's not natural."
"She's a child," Sarya whispered, stepping forward before Kael could stop her.
The girl didn't flinch as Sarya approached. In fact, she smiled. It was a small, heartbreaking thing — full of sadness and warmth and something Kael couldn't quite place.
"What's your name?" Sarya asked gently.
The girl tilted her head. "Liora."
Her voice was soft and clear, with a strange cadence like someone who had learned language through dreams, not speech.
"Where are your parents?"
Liora blinked. "Gone. Burned. Like the others."
Kael stepped closer now, the heat of the scorched earth biting through his boots.
"Did you do this?" he asked.
Liora looked at him. Her eyes flickered brighter for a moment, like candlelight stirred by breath.
"I didn't want to," she said.
Behind Kael, Nyra swore. "She's a flamebearer."
"No markings," Tareth noted. "No crucible scars. She's too young."
"She's wrong," Nyra snapped. "She's not branded, not recorded. Not even the Order would ignore someone like this."
Sarya knelt, brushing ash from Liora's face. "How did you survive, child?"
Liora stared at Kael.
"I was waiting," she said.
"For who?"
"You."
Kael felt something twist deep in his chest. His past was a cavern filled with broken mirrors, sharp edges, distorted truths. He didn't remember ever seeing this girl before… and yet he felt the weight of her gaze like recognition.
"Why me?" he asked.
"Because you left me," she said softly.
The silence that followed wasn't natural.
It was sacred.
Liora's lip trembled. "But I think it wasn't your fault. I think they made you forget."
Kael stepped closer. "Who?"
But she didn't answer. Instead, she reached out, touched his hand and the world tilted.
A flash , not a memory, not quite.
Flame danced in a dark chamber. A voice sang lullabies in a lost tongue. And a woman wept over a crib as soldiers banged on the doors. The child in the cradle was glowing.
"You'll be safe… even if I have to shatter everything to keep you hidden."
Then fire, a thousand screams, and nothing but ash.
Kael jerked back, hand burning from the touch.
Liora sat quietly.
"I don't know what I am," she whispered. "But I think I'm supposed to help you remember. Before she finds you."
"Who?" Nyra asked tightly.
"The one who's dreaming."
Kael turned to the others. "We're taking her with us."
"She's dangerous," Nyra argued.
"So are we," Sarya shot back.
"She's a child!" Kael said, louder. "And if she's tied to my past, then we don't leave her behind."
Tareth shook his head but relented. "We'll regret this."
"I already do," Kael muttered.
He scooped Liora up gently, feeling how light she was, and how warm. She leaned into him like she'd known him a lifetime.
And somewhere deep in Kael's fractured soul, a voice stirred.
She remembers you. Even if you don't remember her.
That night, as they made camp near a half-fallen statue of a forgotten flame god, Liora slept curled beside Kael. Her breath matched his. Her dreams twisted through the firelight. And though no one spoke of it, they all felt it:
This child was a spark. A warning. A beginning.
And somewhere far away, across the deep black of night, something woke up.