Lin Xing followed Sylvara through the glowing path unveiled by the shattered obsidian stone, his rusted sword slung across his back. The air shimmered with faint golden motes, and the Emberwood Forest seemed to shift around them, trees parting as if bowing to their passage. The path wound deeper than he'd ever ventured, into a realm where the starlight above felt closer, almost within reach. His heart thrummed with a mix of anticipation and unease, Sylvara's words echoing in his mind: *Once you take this path, there is no turning back.*
Sylvara glided ahead, her silver hair catching the faint light like a river of moonlight. Her staff pulsed softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the narrow trail. Lin Xing glanced at her, his voice low. "You said the Ruins of Dawn. What are they, and why do I need to go there?"
Her violet eyes flickered toward him, sharp yet serene. "The Ruins of Dawn are the remnants of the First Temple, where the Eternal Flame was first kindled. It is there you will face your first trial to prove your worth as the Flame's bearer."
"Trial?" Lin Xing's grip tightened on his sword's hilt. "What kind of trial?"
Sylvara's expression remained unreadable. "The Flame tests not your strength, but your heart. Only those who can withstand its judgment may wield its power. Fail, and you will be consumed."
He swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling like a stone in his chest. "And if I pass?"
"Then you will take the first step toward becoming the Sovereign of the Eternal Dawn," she replied. "But know this: the trial is but the beginning. The Flame's enemies will sense its awakening. They will come for you."
Lin Xing snorted, masking his unease. "Let them come. I've got nothing to lose."
Sylvara paused, turning to face him fully. "You say that now, but the path you walk will demand everything—your dreams, your fears, even those you hold dear. Are you truly prepared?"
He met her gaze, his ember-like eyes unyielding. "I've spent my life being told I'm nothing. If this Flame gives me a chance to change that, I'll face whatever it throws at me."
A faint smile curved her lips, and she nodded. "Good. Hold fast to that resolve."
The path abruptly ended at a crumbling stone archway, its surface carved with runes that pulsed faintly with golden light. Beyond it lay a vast clearing, dominated by a dilapidated structure half-swallowed by vines and ash. The Ruins of Dawn loomed before them, their broken spires reaching toward the sky like the bones of a forgotten giant. The air grew heavy, charged with an energy that made Lin Xing's skin prickle.
"This is it," Sylvara said, her voice soft but firm. "The First Temple. Step through the archway, and the trial will begin."
Lin Xing hesitated, his hand brushing the rough cloth of his tunic. He had no spiritual energy, no cultivation techniques, only a battered sword and a stubborn will. Yet the golden flame from his dreams flickered in his mind, urging him forward. He took a deep breath and stepped through the archway.
The world shifted. The ruins vanished, replaced by a vast, endless void. Stars glittered above, below, and around him, as if he stood at the heart of the cosmos. Before him, a single flame burned, no larger than a candle's flicker, yet radiating a warmth that seemed to pierce his very soul. It hovered above a stone pedestal, its light both inviting and terrifying.
"Lin Xing," a voice boomed, resonating from the flame itself. It was neither male nor female, ancient yet vibrant. "You who bear no spiritual root, why do you seek the Eternal Flame?"
He froze, the question cutting deeper than he expected. Why *did* he seek it? To prove himself? To escape his past? Or was it something more, something he couldn't yet name? He squared his shoulders, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. "I seek it because I refuse to be nothing. I want to forge my own fate, not live in the shadow of others'."
The flame flared, its light intensifying. "Words are fleeting. Prove your resolve."
The void rippled, and a figure materialized before him—a mirror image of himself, down to the worn tunic and rusted sword. But this Lin Xing's eyes were cold, hollow, filled with a bitterness that made his stomach churn. The doppelgänger raised its sword, its voice a twisted echo. "You're nothing, Lin Xing. A fool chasing dreams that will burn you to ash."
Lin Xing drew his sword, the blade trembling in his grip. "If I'm nothing, then what are you?"
The doppelgänger lunged, its blade slicing through the air with unnatural speed. Lin Xing parried, the clash of metal ringing through the void. He had no spiritual energy, no techniques to rely on, only years of relentless training in the forest. Each strike from his double was precise, fueled by a malice that felt all too familiar—the voice of his own doubts, given form.
The battle was grueling, each blow testing his endurance. The doppelgänger taunted him, its words cutting deeper than its blade. "You'll fail. You'll always fail. The Flame will reject you, just like the world has."
Lin Xing gritted his teeth, his arms burning with fatigue. But as the fight wore on, he felt something shift within him—a spark, faint but undeniable, kindling in his chest. It wasn't spiritual energy, but something raw, primal, born of his refusal to yield. With a roar, he swung his sword in a desperate arc, shattering the doppelgänger's blade. The figure dissolved into motes of light, its final words a whisper: "You are enough… for now."
The void faded, and Lin Xing found himself back in the ruins, kneeling before the pedestal. The flame now hovered before him, its warmth soothing his aching body. Sylvara stood nearby, her expression unreadable. "You faced your doubt and stood firm," she said. "The Flame acknowledges you."
Lin Xing panted, sweat dripping from his brow. "Is that it? Did I pass?"
Sylvara's eyes narrowed. "You have taken the first step. But the trial has awakened the Flame's presence. Its enemies will sense it. We must move quickly."
Before he could respond, the ground trembled. A low, guttural roar echoed from the forest, and shadows writhed at the edge of the clearing. Sylvara raised her staff, the crystal flaring. "They're here," she whispered. "The Shadow Clans have come."
Lin Xing tightened his grip on his sword, the spark in his chest flaring brighter. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it—not as a nobody, but as a man forging his own dawn.