The air in the Ruins of Dawn grew thick with menace as the ground shuddered beneath Lin Xing's feet. The guttural roar from the forest swelled, a sound that clawed at his instincts, urging him to flee. Yet he stood firm, his rusted sword raised, the faint spark in his chest pulsing like a second heartbeat. Beside him, Sylvara gripped her staff, its crystal blazing with violet light that cut through the encroaching darkness.
"Shadow Clans," Sylvara said, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "They are drawn to the Eternal Flame's awakening. They will stop at nothing to extinguish it—and you."
Lin Xing's eyes narrowed, scanning the edge of the clearing. Shadows writhed among the trees, coalescing into humanoid forms with glowing red eyes and bodies that seemed to flicker like smoke. Their presence sent a chill down his spine, but the memory of the trial's doppelgänger fueled his resolve. He'd faced his own doubts and won. These shadows were just another challenge.
"How many?" he asked, his voice low.
"Too many for you to fight alone," Sylvara replied. "But you're not alone."
Before he could question her, she slammed her staff into the ground. A ripple of violet energy surged outward, forming a shimmering barrier around them. The shadows hissed, their forms recoiling as the light scorched their edges. "This will hold them briefly," she said. "But you must act. The Flame has marked you, Lin Xing. Draw on its spark."
He glanced at the tiny flame hovering above the pedestal, its golden glow steady despite the chaos. "Draw on it? I don't even know how to use it!"
"Feel it," Sylvara snapped, her tone sharp for the first time. "The Flame isn't a tool—it's a will. Let it guide you."
Lin Xing closed his eyes, shutting out the snarls of the approaching shadows. He focused on the warmth in his chest, that faint spark from the trial. It pulsed, tentative but alive, like a fire waiting to be fed. He reached for it, not with his hands but with his mind, his heart. The spark flared, sending a surge of heat through his veins. His sword trembled in his grip, its rusted blade glowing faintly with golden embers.
The shadows lunged, their claws tearing at Sylvara's barrier. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. Lin Xing opened his eyes, his gaze steady. "Let's do this."
Sylvara nodded, and with a flick of her wrist, the barrier shattered, unleashing a wave of violet light that staggered the nearest shadows. Lin Xing charged, his sword swinging in a wide arc. The blade, now infused with the Flame's ember, sliced through the first shadow as if it were mist, reducing it to a wisp of smoke. The others shrieked, their red eyes blazing with fury, and swarmed him.
He moved on instinct, years of training in the Emberwood Forest guiding his steps. The spark within him burned brighter with each swing, his blade carving through the shadows with unnatural precision. But for every one he felled, two more emerged, their claws grazing his arms, leaving shallow cuts that stung like ice.
Sylvara fought beside him, her staff a blur as it unleashed arcs of violet energy. Each strike sent shadows scattering, but her movements were measured, almost restrained. "Focus, Lin Xing!" she called. "The Flame's power grows with your will. Don't let fear take hold!"
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain in his arms. The spark in his chest surged, and for a moment, he felt it—a connection to something vast, ancient, like a river of fire flowing through him. His sword flared brighter, and with a shout, he unleashed a wave of golden light that incinerated a dozen shadows in an instant. The clearing fell silent, the remaining shadows retreating into the forest, their hisses fading into the night.
Lin Xing panted, his sword trembling in his hands. The glow on its blade dimmed, but the spark in his chest remained, steady and warm. He turned to Sylvara, who stood unscathed, her staff still glowing faintly. "Was that… the Flame?" he asked, breathless.
"A fragment of it," she replied, her violet eyes scanning the treeline. "You've only touched its surface. But you've proven you can wield it."
He wiped sweat from his brow, the weight of the battle settling in. "Those things—Shadow Clans. What are they?"
"Servants of the Void King," Sylvara said, her voice grim. "A force older than the Eternal Dawn World, sealed long ago when the Flame was first kindled. Your awakening of the Flame has stirred them. They will hunt you until the Flame is fully yours—or until they claim it."
Lin Xing's jaw tightened. "Let them try."
Sylvara's lips twitched, a hint of approval in her gaze. "Brave words. But courage alone won't suffice. The Ruins hold one more secret before we leave. Follow me."
She led him deeper into the ruins, past crumbled pillars and shattered mosaics depicting flames and stars. At the heart of the temple, a stone altar stood, its surface etched with a single rune that pulsed with golden light. Sylvara placed her hand on it, and the altar rumbled, sliding aside to reveal a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
"What's down there?" Lin Xing asked, peering into the shadows.
"The Flame's first gift," Sylvara said. "A relic to aid you on this path. But beware—its power comes with a price."
Lin Xing gripped his sword, the spark in his chest urging him forward. He didn't know what lay below, but he'd come too far to turn back. With a nod to Sylvara, he descended the stairs, the golden rune's light fading behind him as the darkness swallowed him whole.