LightReader

Chapter 8 - Trial By Flame

---

**Chapter Eight: Trial by Flame**

The flame called to me.

Not in words. Not in dreams. It thrummed inside my chest like a second heart, coaxing me toward the Emberwell's edge.

"She chose this path," the Watcher said behind me, his voice hushed with reverence. "But only you can finish it."

I nodded once. Then stepped into the fire.

It should've burned. It didn't.

The world folded around me. I was no longer in the sanctuary. No longer in my body. Just drifting in a realm of light and memory, heat and truth. The Emberwell had opened my blood like a book.

I saw my mother again, younger. Laughing. Then fighting—eyes blazing, sword in hand, a name on her lips I couldn't hear.

I saw my father's face… but only in shards. Eyes like eclipses. Power like a storm trapped in flesh. I reached for him—and the memory shattered.

The scene shifted.

I stood in a field of ash. Ruined towers in the distance. Wind whispering names I didn't know—some of them mine. Before me: three paths, glowing faintly beneath the soot.

**One paved with flame. One with shadow. One with blood.**

A voice pulsed through me—not Maama's. Not the Watcher's.

**"Choose what you are."**

I hesitated. The path of flame felt familiar—warm, steady. The path of shadow hummed with danger, yet beckoned with secrets. The path of blood… pulsed with raw, aching truth.

I stepped onto the path of flame.

At once, fire surged around me—not hurting, but testing. Images flickered in the blaze: moments of my life twisted by doubt.

Maama's stories—were they protection or lies?

My powers—gift or curse?

My father—villain or victim?

The flames pressed close.

"What if I'm not enough?" I whispered.

The fire paused, then whispered back:

**"Then become more."**

I felt it then—deep beneath my ribs. A coil of power I hadn't dared name. I reached inward and pulled.

Light burst from me.

The trial ended with a gasp.

I stumbled back into the sanctuary, smoke curling from my skin, but unburned. A new mark now shimmered down my right arm—runic, golden, alive.

The Watcher was waiting.

He bowed. *Bowed.*

"Flameborn no longer," he said softly. "You are now Flamewoken."

I didn't know what that meant yet. But I felt it in my marrow.

My journey had changed.

So had I.

---

More Chapters