The journey east was a blur of mist and movement.
Kaelen rode with Elira and Dorian through the Shrouded Vale, past forgotten ruins swallowed by roots and time. Each day, the shadow behind them grew heavier, the air colder. Yet ahead, the sun still burned red in the mornings—as if beckoning him onward.
On the fourth day, they crossed into Avaron.
What had once been a kingdom of high towers and golden fields was now a land of stone and silence. Villages lay empty, their hearths cold. But the ravens had not lied.
Near the cliffs of Elowyn Rise, under a sky dusted with gray clouds, they reached it: Thornehold.
A fortress carved into the bones of the mountain itself, guarded by watchmen in black leathers trimmed with crimson feathers. Banners bearing the old symbol of House Thorne—a flaming tree—fluttered in the wind.
Kaelen was led inside.
The hall was cold, grand, and echoing. At its end, beneath a broken mosaic of the Myrian phoenix, sat Lady Mira Thorne—stern-eyed and silver-haired, her presence sharp as glass.
"You are the boy who woke the sword," she said without pleasantries. "And the last ember of the fallen fire."
Kaelen stepped forward. "I didn't come to claim a crown."
"No," she said. "You came to survive. But here, survival comes at a cost."
She rose. Her cloak flared like wings.
"In Avaron, we do not follow prophecy blindly. We test it. If the flame truly accepts you, it will not consume you."
Kaelen frowned. "What flame?"
She smiled.
"The one buried beneath the mountain. The First Flame."
That night, Kaelen stood shirtless at the mouth of a cavern deep below Thornehold. Elira stood nearby, silent but steady. Dorian watched from the shadows, hand never far from his sword.
Mira approached him, holding a torch.
"The Trial of the First Flame was once given to those of Myrian blood to prove their worth—to earn the right to wield magic born of fire and will. If you are not of the line… the flame will burn you from the inside."
Kaelen swallowed hard.
"What do I have to do?"
Mira placed the torch into a basin carved into black stone. The flames burst to life with unnatural speed—blue and white, not red.
"Step through. And survive."
The fire opened like a curtain of light and heat. Kaelen took a breath, feeling the Midnight Blade pulsing on his back.
He stepped in.
The heat was blinding.
For a moment, Kaelen thought he'd vanished into the sun itself. His skin screamed. His breath caught. He fell to one knee.
Then the voices came.
Whispers. Memories.
"You are not your name."
"You are not your father's shadow."
"The sword chose you, but the flame judges."
Images crashed through his mind—his mother's face, the burning of Myre, Elira's oath, the sword awakening in his hands. And then…
A voice deeper than any he'd known.
"Do you fear what you are becoming?"
Kaelen gritted his teeth. "No."
"Then take it."
Suddenly, the pain stopped.
Kaelen opened his eyes.
He stood at the center of a ring of molten stone. Around him, the fire bowed inward—to him.
And when he stepped out, the chamber silent and breathless, Lady Thorne was the first to kneel.
"Rise, Phoenix Heir," she said. "The flame remembers you."
Later that night, Kaelen sat alone with the Midnight Blade across his knees. The heat still hummed under his skin—not a burn, but a calling.
Dorian entered quietly, dropping a satchel at his side.
"New armor," he said. "Forged in the style of Myre. They say you've earned it."
Kaelen glanced at him. "What do you say?"
Dorian cracked a rare smile. "I say... try not to burn the castle down."
Kaelen chuckled softly, the weight of the day finally beginning to settle.
But before he could rest, another raven arrived.
This one bore no wax seal—only a single word, scorched into the parchment:
Kareth.
Kaelen's blood turned to ice.
Kareth—the capital of the Western Reach. His father's last battlefield.
Elira entered, having read over his shoulder.
"The shadows are moving again," she said. "And if Kareth falls, the East will be next."
Kaelen stood, his fingers brushing the hilt of the Midnight Blade.
"No more running," he said.
"The fire has chosen. Now it's time to fight."