Morning arrived quietly at the Pierce estate. But peace was nowhere to be found.
Aaron woke up to the sharp scent of burnt linen. It clung to his sheets, stubborn and bitter. The burns on his hands had faded, but the skin still tingled, as if a spark lived just beneath it.
He passed Kain in the hallway. Neither of them spoke. Kain gave only a brief nod. No warning. No lecture. Just a look that said: You've gone too far.
Aaron spent the morning cleaning lanterns along the garden corridors. His hands moved, but his thoughts stayed elsewhere. The mirror. The voice. The words that refused to leave him:
"You are the last Lineborn of the Sky Flame."
He didn't know what it meant. Not yet. But something had changed inside him.
At sunset, Lord Frankfurt Pierce summoned him.
The Red Salon was dim. Candles flickered. The scent of ink and smoke filled the air. Frankfurt sat by the fireplace, a book with no title resting on his lap.
"You opened the door," he said without looking up.
Aaron nodded. "Yes."
Frankfurt closed the book. "Tell me what you saw."
Aaron described everything. The glowing marks, the black stone room, the mirror, the strange reflection, and the voice. Frankfurt listened without interrupting. When Aaron finished, the older man walked to the window. He placed a hand against the cold glass.
"So... it begins again," he said.
Aaron stepped forward. "What begins?"
Frankfurt turned. His eyes looked tired. Older than before. "The last time the Sky Flame awakened, a kingdom burned. And that was with three. Now, there is only one."
Aaron's heart sank. "What is the Sky Flame?"
Frankfurt's voice dropped. "A power from the stars. Older than magic. Older than gods. It chooses someone every few centuries. Always someone born under rare signs. Always someone with eyes like yours."
He paused. "It is also a curse."
Aaron frowned. "What kind of curse?"
Before Frankfurt could answer, the doors flew open.
Kain stepped in. His cloak was dusty, and his gloves were marked with ash.
"My lord," he said, "there's been an incident in Takoba."
Frankfurt stood. "Explain."
Kain held up a silver token, singed at the edges. It bore the royal crest.
"A scout saw a burst of blue fire near the market. It came from a child. About ten years old. Sky-colored eyes. No family. The child disappeared."
Aaron froze. Another one?
Frankfurt studied the token. "This is no accident. Either the bloodline never died out, or something is waking them up."
Aaron stepped closer. "What do we do?"
Frankfurt looked at him. "You stay here. You're not ready. Not yet."
Aaron shook his head. "But if they're like me, I should help."
Frankfurt didn't answer right away. Then he nodded once. "Kain will go with you. Find the child. Bring them here. Quietly."
Aaron took a deep breath. For the first time, he would return to the city not as a lost orphan, but as something more.
As he turned to leave, Frankfurt spoke again.
"And Aaron. Don't use the flame. Not until you understand the price."
That night, the estate gates opened for Aaron.
Kain walked beside him, adjusting his cloak and fastening a blade to his belt.
"Nervous?" Kain asked.
Aaron exhaled. "Yes."
Kain gave a faint smile. "Good. That means you're still human."
They walked into the fog of Gizana, heading toward Takoba—and the unknown waiting there.