The torches in the training courtyard sputtered, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls as Kael stood alone long after Lysandra had departed. He traced the crystal's lingering energy in the air, fingers curled at his side. The calm he had felt during his brief moment of control over the Echo now began to fray at the edges.
He wasn't stupid—he knew that peace was temporary.
In the distance, a low rumble of thunder growled across the sky. Clouds had rolled in without warning, dimming the silver glow of the moon. The air thickened, charged with a tension Kael couldn't explain.
Then he felt it.A shift.A pulse.
The Echo inside him stirred—not in warning, but in reaction. Something outside the sanctuary of Lysandra's temple was calling to it. No, not calling—challenging.
Kael turned, eyes narrowing.
Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the night, followed by a crack—a splintering boom as a nearby pillar exploded into shards of rock.
Kael dove aside instinctively, rolling across the stone floor as another projectile slammed into the ground where he'd just been. A dark blur streaked across the courtyard and landed with feline grace, cloaked in black smoke and wielding twin daggers that shimmered with red runes.
Kael scrambled to his feet. "Who the hell—"
"Kael Veyne," the figure hissed, its voice distorted by a metallic mask. "Bearer of the Echo. The God's Curse. I was told you'd be taller."
Kael's fists clenched. The Echo surged forward inside him, uncoiling like a snake sensing a predator.
"Who sent you?" he demanded, trying to hold the Echo back, to stay in control.
"I am a Shadow of the Broken Flame. And I've come to see if the stories are true."The attacker dashed forward in a blur.
Kael barely had time to react. His instincts screamed. He raised a hand just in time, and with a desperate focus, called upon the Echo. Energy burst outward, raw and unrefined, slamming into the attacker mid-lunge and throwing them back several feet.
They recovered midair, flipping and landing in a crouch.
"Clumsy," the assassin growled. "But powerful."
Kael didn't wait for the next move. His mind raced, drawing on the training Lysandra had given him. But the Echo felt wilder now—less cooperative than before. It churned under his skin, demanding release.
He planted his feet and drew on it anyway.
The ground beneath him cracked as Echo energy surged through his veins. Shadows crawled from the corners of the courtyard, gathering around him in wisps of gray light. He raised his hand—and the shadows obeyed.
The assassin's eyes widened behind the mask. "So the god's mark is active."
"Get used to disappointment," Kael growled. "I'm not dying tonight."
Their blades met with a burst of sparks as Kael lunged forward, the Echo surging in tandem with each strike he delivered. He wasn't trained in swordplay, but the Echo guided his limbs like instinct, predicting his opponent's movements just seconds before they happened.
But for every blow he landed, the assassin deflected two.
Then came the mistake. Kael overextended, and the masked figure struck his side with a brutal kick. Pain exploded through his ribs, and he hit the ground hard, coughing.
"You're still raw," the assassin muttered, standing over him. "Too young. The Echo inside you is still immature. It would be mercy to kill you now."
Kael forced himself up, vision swimming. Blood dripped from his mouth."No," he muttered. "You don't get to decide that."
A sharp shriek cut through the night—and from the temple steps, Lysandra appeared, her cloak billowing like a tempest. Her eyes glowed with a cold, piercing light.
"Leave," she said, her voice like the edge of a blade. "Now."
The assassin hesitated. Then smirked. "Another time, boy." And with a twist of their cloak, they vanished into the shadows, leaving only smoke and silence behind.
Kael collapsed, gasping for breath.
Lysandra rushed to him, kneeling at his side. "You're hurt. Hold still."
"I had it under control," he lied, chest heaving.
"You almost died," she said sharply. "And that wasn't just any assassin. That was a Scorched Whisper. An elite hunter from the Broken Flame."
Kael winced. "You said no one could reach me here."
"I said few could. I didn't expect they'd find you so quickly." She touched his shoulder, and a soft light bloomed between her fingers, numbing the pain in his ribs. "You've awakened the Echo. They'll come for you now. Again and again."
"Why?" he rasped. "What do they want with me?"
"They want your soul," Lysandra whispered. "The Echo was not meant for mortals, Kael. You are a paradox—both cursed and blessed. The Broken Flame believes the Echo belongs to them. If they capture you... they will extract it from you."
Kael paled. "Can they?"
She hesitated.
"Yes. But not without destroying you in the process."
Later that night, Kael stood on the balcony of his chamber, overlooking the forest that now seemed darker, more dangerous. The air was still heavy with the tension of the attack. He had barely survived—and only because Lysandra had intervened.
The Echo within him stirred, calmer now, as though tired. But he could still feel the burn in his bones, the way it had answered his call in the moment he needed it most.
"I won't be weak again," he whispered to himself. "Next time... I'll be ready."
Behind him, Lysandra's voice rang quiet and low. "Then tomorrow, we begin the Trial of Memory. You'll learn where the Echo came from—and what it has cost the world."
Kael turned to face her, jaw set. "I want to know everything."
Her eyes gleamed. "Then prepare yourself, Kael. The truth is never merciful."
The torches in the training courtyard sputtered, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls as Kael stood alone long after Lysandra had departed. He traced the crystal's lingering energy in the air, fingers curled at his side. The calm he had felt during his brief moment of control over the Echo now began to fray at the edges.
He wasn't stupid—he knew that peace was temporary.
In the distance, a low rumble of thunder growled across the sky. Clouds had rolled in without warning, dimming the silver glow of the moon. The air thickened, charged with a tension Kael couldn't explain.
Then he felt it.A shift.A pulse.
The Echo inside him stirred—not in warning, but in reaction. Something outside the sanctuary of Lysandra's temple was calling to it. No, not calling—challenging.
Kael turned, eyes narrowing.
Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the night, followed by a crack—a splintering boom as a nearby pillar exploded into shards of rock.
Kael dove aside instinctively, rolling across the stone floor as another projectile slammed into the ground where he'd just been. A dark blur streaked across the courtyard and landed with feline grace, cloaked in black smoke and wielding twin daggers that shimmered with red runes.
Kael scrambled to his feet. "Who the hell—"
"Kael Veyne," the figure hissed, its voice distorted by a metallic mask. "Bearer of the Echo. The God's Curse. I was told you'd be taller."
Kael's fists clenched. The Echo surged forward inside him, uncoiling like a snake sensing a predator.
"Who sent you?" he demanded, trying to hold the Echo back, to stay in control.
"I am a Shadow of the Broken Flame. And I've come to see if the stories are true."The attacker dashed forward in a blur.
Kael barely had time to react. His instincts screamed. He raised a hand just in time, and with a desperate focus, called upon the Echo. Energy burst outward, raw and unrefined, slamming into the attacker mid-lunge and throwing them back several feet.
They recovered midair, flipping and landing in a crouch.
"Clumsy," the assassin growled. "But powerful."
Kael didn't wait for the next move. His mind raced, drawing on the training Lysandra had given him. But the Echo felt wilder now—less cooperative than before. It churned under his skin, demanding release.
He planted his feet and drew on it anyway.
The ground beneath him cracked as Echo energy surged through his veins. Shadows crawled from the corners of the courtyard, gathering around him in wisps of gray light. He raised his hand—and the shadows obeyed.
The assassin's eyes widened behind the mask. "So the god's mark is active."
"Get used to disappointment," Kael growled. "I'm not dying tonight."
Their blades met with a burst of sparks as Kael lunged forward, the Echo surging in tandem with each strike he delivered. He wasn't trained in swordplay, but the Echo guided his limbs like instinct, predicting his opponent's movements just seconds before they happened.
But for every blow he landed, the assassin deflected two.
Then came the mistake. Kael overextended, and the masked figure struck his side with a brutal kick. Pain exploded through his ribs, and he hit the ground hard, coughing.
"You're still raw," the assassin muttered, standing over him. "Too young. The Echo inside you is still immature. It would be mercy to kill you now."
Kael forced himself up, vision swimming. Blood dripped from his mouth."No," he muttered. "You don't get to decide that."
A sharp shriek cut through the night—and from the temple steps, Lysandra appeared, her cloak billowing like a tempest. Her eyes glowed with a cold, piercing light.
"Leave," she said, her voice like the edge of a blade. "Now."
The assassin hesitated. Then smirked. "Another time, boy." And with a twist of their cloak, they vanished into the shadows, leaving only smoke and silence behind.
Kael collapsed, gasping for breath.
Lysandra rushed to him, kneeling at his side. "You're hurt. Hold still."
"I had it under control," he lied, chest heaving.
"You almost died," she said sharply. "And that wasn't just any assassin. That was a Scorched Whisper. An elite hunter from the Broken Flame."
Kael winced. "You said no one could reach me here."
"I said few could. I didn't expect they'd find you so quickly." She touched his shoulder, and a soft light bloomed between her fingers, numbing the pain in his ribs. "You've awakened the Echo. They'll come for you now. Again and again."
"Why?" he rasped. "What do they want with me?"
"They want your soul," Lysandra whispered. "The Echo was not meant for mortals, Kael. You are a paradox—both cursed and blessed. The Broken Flame believes the Echo belongs to them. If they capture you... they will extract it from you."
Kael paled. "Can they?"
She hesitated.
"Yes. But not without destroying you in the process."
Later that night, Kael stood on the balcony of his chamber, overlooking the forest that now seemed darker, more dangerous. The air was still heavy with the tension of the attack. He had barely survived—and only because Lysandra had intervened.
The Echo within him stirred, calmer now, as though tired. But he could still feel the burn in his bones, the way it had answered his call in the moment he needed it most.
"I won't be weak again," he whispered to himself. "Next time... I'll be ready."
Behind him, Lysandra's voice rang quiet and low. "Then tomorrow, we begin the Trial of Memory. You'll learn where the Echo came from—and what it has cost the world."
Kael turned to face her, jaw set. "I want to know everything."
Her eyes gleamed. "Then prepare yourself, Kael. The truth is never merciful."