Morning came late.
A thick mist blanketed the forest, clinging to the trees like old breath that refused to leave. Even the birds were hesitant, chirping in cautious bursts, as if testing the safety of the day.
Kael was already awake, his back pressed against the roots of the guardian tree near the gate. His eyes were bloodshot — not from sleep, but from its absence. Sleep didn't come easy anymore. Not since the fire. Not since the man of flame and shadow whispered truth into his bones.
Across the clearing, Elira stirred. She sat up slowly, rubbing her face and blinking at the grey sky.
"You didn't rest again," she rasped.
Kael didn't answer right away. His gaze remained locked on the pulsing arch, still faintly humming — like a dying heartbeat too stubborn to quit.
"No," he said at last. "Didn't want to."
Elira stood, stretching. "Because of what he said?"
Kael's voice was low.
"Because of how he said it."
They ate quickly — dried meat, roots, river apples. Nothing warm. No fire. Kael said it would draw attention, and Elira didn't argue.
There was something in the air lately that didn't like heat.
They left the clearing without another word.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because there was too much.
They walked east.
Toward the old watchtower — a ruin Kael remembered from his past life, a remnant of the time before the realms fractured. The Flame Walkers had trained there once. It was where they chose their vessels. Where they named the first of the Oathbound.
He hoped to find records.
Proof that the fire inside him wasn't madness.
That it had meaning.
That it had rules.
Elira followed without question.
She always did.
By midday, they arrived.
The tower was half-swallowed by earth, collapsed on one side, its stone blackened by old magic. Weeds curled up its base, but symbols older than either of them still marked the walls — silent and waiting.
Kael ran a hand along the stone arch at the entrance.
"These weren't made to keep people out," he murmured.
Elira leaned closer. "Then what for?"
Kael's jaw tightened.
"To keep something in."
The first floor was silent.
Dust hung like smoke. Tables were split by rot, and shards of mirror glass lined the far wall. One mirror remained unbroken, though its surface shimmered — like it was remembering something it shouldn't.
Kael stepped toward it.
And froze.
In the reflection… he wasn't alone.
He turned fast — but Elira was still at the doorway. No one else.
He looked back.
Only himself now.
Except his eyes.
In the reflection, they were burning.
"I think this place is awakening something," Kael whispered.
Elira already had her blade drawn. "Or remembering someone."
They descended into the lower chambers. The air tightened. The corridor narrowed until it opened into a circular stone room — benches lined the edges, and at the center: a pedestal.
Upon it sat a gauntlet.
Bronze. Worn by time. Glowing faintly at the knuckles. Heat pulsed from it — not burning. Alive.
Kael stepped forward.
"It's… waiting."
"Kael—" Elira warned.
But he was already reaching out.
The moment his fingers brushed metal, the room flared with flame.
Not wild.
Not destructive.
Controlled.
Ancient.
It swirled up his arm like a cloak, lifting him from the floor. Symbols burst across the walls — unreadable to Elira, but understood by Kael.
Not words.
Not magic.
A memory.
Not his.
But now inside him.
He gasped as the heat surged into his chest — not pain, but weight. Purpose. Rage, refined to blade-edge precision. He dropped to one knee, clutching the gauntlet as it sealed to his forearm like it had always belonged there.
And then — a voice, echoing within him.
> "Flame Walker.
Bearer of the First Light.
The stars burned you once.
Now you burn back."
Elira rushed to him as the fire dimmed. Kael was pale, breath shallow — but alive.
Changed.
The gauntlet gleamed like molten memory. Fitted perfectly.
Kael looked up slowly. "I know what I have to do."
"What did you see?" Elira asked.
He looked past her — toward the pedestal, then the ceiling above them.
"There are others like me," he said. "Other vessels. Other keys. Whoever took my family… they're collecting the remnants."
He met her eyes.
"Killing or corrupting them."
Elira's voice was tight. "And you're next."
Kael didn't flinch.
"No. I'm the one they missed."
By the time they climbed back into the forest light, the mist had lifted — but the clouds above pressed low.
Thunder rumbled on the horizon.
Kael didn't seem to notice. He stood at the edge of the path and raised the gauntlet, letting its faint glow reflect in his eyes.
"They called me the Fallen Star," he said softly.
"But they forgot what happens after a star falls."
Elira raised an eyebrow. "What happens?"
He looked at her — and for a moment, he didn't look like a boy at all.
> "They rise again."