The great hall of the Dominion Citadel had been silent for over a century.
No war council had echoed within its sacred walls. No inquisitorial flames had been lit in generations. It had become a relic of an older age — a monument to justice that had slowly turned into a museum of history.
Until today.
Because today, it came alive again — for one boy.
For the Flameborn.
---
Massive stone pillars lined the oval chamber, carved with the faces of kings long dead. The ceiling was a dome of obsidian crystal, enchanted to reflect the truths spoken beneath it. And at the very center of the room stood a raised circle of ancient blackstone — the Pyre Disc.
That's where Aedric now stood.
Shackled in golden flamechains.
Cloaked figures surrounded him — twelve of them — standing in perfect formation around the disc. Each bore a hood of different color, representing their Dominion rank. And all of them answered to the one who sat at the throne above…
The High Inquisitor.
An ancient man with eyes sewn shut, a crown of ash, and chains instead of robes. A being older than the kingdom itself.
To his right stood Prince Caelen, hands folded behind his back, wearing pure white robes and a look of divine concern.
To his left, Selene Aurin — the girl who once loved Aedric, now silent and unreadable.
And below them all, in the black flame at the center…
Aedric Valtoris.
Chin high. Eyes steady. Silent.
---
Inquisitor: "We are gathered here not to condemn — but to confirm."
The voice echoed like thunder wrapped in velvet.
Inquisitor: "The Crown Heir stands accused of wielding the forbidden flame — the Black Ember, cursed in the old wars, sealed by the gods, and prophesied to return when the heavens themselves are to be challenged."
Murmurs rippled among the spectators beyond the veil. Scholars. Nobles. Clerics. Spies.
Inquisitor: "Crown Heir Aedric. Speak. Do you deny these charges?"
Aedric looked up.
"I don't."
Gasps erupted.
Caelen's lips curved ever so slightly.
The Inquisitor raised a hand, silencing the room.
"You admit to bearing the flame that defies death?"
"I don't bear it," Aedric said. "I am it."
---
The room fell into stunned silence.
Even the crystal ceiling seemed to flicker.
Aedric's voice was calm — not defiant, but… inevitable.
"I died once," he continued. "Burned for a crime I did not commit. And when the world thought me gone, it left me to rot in the arms of betrayal."
His eyes met Selene's for a moment — and hers lowered.
"But flame remembers," he said.
"And now, I do too."
---
Suddenly, the flamechains binding him ignited — not red, not orange… but black.
The sigils across the Pyre Disc lit up in ancient runes.
The Inquisitor whispered something under his breath — a spell older than language — and the dome above them all shimmered.
"Then prove it," he said.
---
🔥 The Trial Begins: The Fire of Truth
At the Inquisitor's command, the Flame of Judgment was summoned.
A burning sphere the size of a man hovered above the center of the dome, casting light across the chamber.
Its purpose was simple: expose lies.
And if the person who stood beneath it spoke falsehood, the fire would burn them alive.
> In his past life… this is where Aedric died.
Burned to death.
Because he had no proof. Because no one believed the flame could return in human flesh.
But today… the flame inside him was stronger.
---
The first Inquisitor stepped forward.
His voice was clipped, emotionless.
"Do you deny using forbidden magic during your combat trial?"
Aedric: "No."
The Flame of Judgment pulsed once.
Then remained still.
No fire. No pain.
"Do you deny practicing necromancy?"
Aedric: "I never have."
Again, no flicker.
But then a third inquisitor — female, voice laced with something bitter.
"Do you deny remembering a life… before this one?"
The hall went quiet.
Even the winds outside the citadel paused.
Aedric looked her in the eye.
"I do not deny it."
The Flame of Judgment exploded with light.
But Aedric did not burn.
---
Gasps echoed.
He remained unharmed — though his eyes darkened, and smoke curled from his shoulders.
The Inquisitor leaned forward on his throne.
"You are a soul reborn."
"I am," Aedric said. "Reborn by flame. Fueled by truth."
"Then you have defied the gods."
A beat of silence.
Then Aedric smiled.
"No."
"I am their punishment."
---
💠 Interruption: Divine Interference
Suddenly — the flame above screamed.
A rift opened in the center of the chamber — a tear of pure light and sound. The crowd fell to their knees as a voice not of this world poured through.
"THE FLAMEBORN LIVES."
It shook the stones. Cracked the ceiling.
"THE CONTRACT IS BROKEN."
"THE STARS WILL BURN."
The rift vanished.
Smoke. Ash. Silence.
---
The Inquisitors staggered.
One of them fell to his knees. "Impossible…"
Another whispered, "A god just… acknowledged him."
Caelen, pale-faced, stepped forward.
"This proves nothing. He is dangerous—"
"Enough," said the High Inquisitor, raising his hand.
He stood from the throne for the first time in centuries.
Chains rattled across the floor.
He descended the dais and walked until he stood face to face with Aedric.
He removed his crown of ash.
"I have judged kings. Slaughtered prophets. Imprisoned gods."
"But you…"
"You are something I cannot chain."
Then, softly, the chains around Aedric fell to the floor.
Clink.
"You are free, Flameborn."
---
🌓 Aftermath: The Quiet Before the Storm
Later that night, Aedric sat at the edge of the Citadel's sky-bridge, legs dangling above the thousand-foot drop.
The sky bled orange.
Behind him, Lyara approached.
"They feared you," she said. "And they still let you go."
"Because I wasn't lying."
"No," she whispered. "You were finally seen."
Aedric didn't reply.
He looked down at his hand.
The black flame burned softly across his fingers.
And in his mind… he heard it again.
That godly voice.
THE FLAMEBORN LIVES.
---