Kael's gaze locked on the Flame Seer's outstretched hand. The flickering torchlight danced on her veiled face, casting shifting shadows that made her expression unreadable. Yet in her voice lay a certainty he couldn't deny.
"The truth about your bloodline," she repeated, voice low and steady. "It is the key to the Sovereign's fear—and your greatest strength."
Elara shifted uneasily, gripping her dagger. "Why should we trust her? For all we know, she could be another trick."
Lysaria studied the Flame Seer intently. "She speaks with the ancient flame's authority. I have never seen her before, but her aura is real."
Kael hesitated, torn between caution and the burning need to understand the threads of his past. He took her hand, feeling a warmth ripple up his arm—a strange fusion of comfort and power.
The hidden path beyond the chamber spiraled downward into darkness, but the torches flared with an unnatural light, illuminating carvings along the walls—stories told in flame and shadow.
The Seer's voice echoed as they walked. "Your ancestors were not merely Flamebearers. They were the original keepers of the Five Flames—the founders of the Covenant. The Sovereign's rise shattered their legacy, forcing the flames to scatter and hide."
Kael swallowed. "Why me? Why now?"
"Because your blood carries the forgotten spark—the blood of the Forsaken Flame. It is a power neither you nor the Sovereign fully understand."
"Forsaken Flame?" Kael repeated, heart pounding.
The Seer stopped before a massive stone door etched with glowing sigils. She traced a symbol resembling a burning phoenix. "Long ago, the Forsaken Flame was cast out by the Council of Flames for its uncontrollable power—destructive yet reborn through sacrifice. Your lineage was marked for exile."
Elara frowned. "So, Kael's family was... banished?"
"Not just banished," the Seer said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "They were hidden to protect the world from the flame's fury, and to protect the flame from the Sovereign's corruption."
Kael felt a storm rise inside him—anger, confusion, and a fierce hunger for answers.
The door rumbled and slowly swung open, revealing a cavern glowing with shifting light. At its center was a pool of liquid fire, calm yet alive.
"This is the Heartforge," the Seer explained. "Where the Forsaken Flame was born—and where it can be reborn again."
Kael stepped closer, the flames reflected in his wide eyes. "What must I do?"
"Accept it," the Seer said softly. "Embrace the flame within you. But beware—it demands sacrifice."
Lysaria's voice broke the silence. "You're not alone, Kael. We stand with you."
Elara nodded, tightening her grip on her daggers. "If you fall, we fall. But if you rise... we all rise."
Kael took a deep breath, reaching toward the fiery pool. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a surge of power exploded through him—visions of firestorms, lost civilizations, and battles fought with flames as weapons.
He saw his ancestors—warriors and scholars, bearing the flame with both reverence and fear.
But amid the power, a shadow lurked—darkness clawing at the edges, threatening to consume the light.
Kael gasped, staggering back.
"Control it," the Seer urged. "The Forsaken Flame is wild, but it can be your greatest weapon or your destruction."
Kael closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the flames. He felt the Echo's silver pulse and Memory's golden warmth blending with the fiery core awakening inside him.
A steady beat emerged—a heart that refused to break.
When he opened his eyes, the firepool had calmed, glowing a deep amber.
"I'm ready," Kael said, voice steady but trembling.
The Flame Seer smiled beneath her veil. "Then prepare yourself, Kael of the Forsaken Flame. The Sovereign's shadow grows darker, and the final battle approaches."
Outside the chamber, the sands shifted restlessly.
The desert was no longer silent.