Kael didn't run.
He walked out of the hidden chamber with the book held tightly to his chest, the torchlight flickering against the ancient pages. The word Flamebearer echoed in his mind like a bell that wouldn't stop ringing.
Outside, the night felt heavier. The stars above Hollow Hill were dim, as if veiled by something not of this world.
Back at the orphanage, Kael packed what little he had—a worn satchel, a waterskin, a rusted dagger. The letter from the ashes and the book from the library went in last. His fingers lingered on the mark glowing faintly beneath his sleeve.
Old Mara found him at the door. Her eyes, once soft and tired, now seemed filled with something sharper—fear, perhaps... or memory.
"You've read it," she said.
Kael nodded. "What is the Veil?"
She looked away. "A mistake. A wall built to keep things out—and to keep us in."
He didn't ask more. There wasn't time. The book had shown him a path, a place where the Flamebearers once gathered: the ruins of Elyria, deep within the northern mountains.
Kael stepped into the cold wind.
He didn't know what waited ahead.
Only that something had begun.
And he had to follow it.