Twelve winters passed.
Rael Halewyn, second-born son of Duke Darius Halewyn, grew up in the manor's forgotten wing — a cold place meant for storage, overlooked cousins, and things not meant to shine.
He didn't mind.
Each year, his body grew, but more importantly… his awareness sharpened. Muscle memory from a past life flickered in every step, every breath. Magic was still distant, locked somewhere behind the wall of his reincarnated soul, but his mind? Razor sharp.
He had started walking at seven months. Speaking full sentences at one year.
But he learned to pretend far earlier than that.
> Let them think me slow. Let them mock. It's easier to sharpen a dagger when no one sees the hilt.
---
⚜️ The Halewyn Legacy
House Halewyn was one of the Nine Arcane Pillars — ancient noble bloodlines that once fought beside the gods to seal the Rift Realms. Masters of fire arcana, their lineage was drenched in warfare, pride, and politics.
His father, Duke Darius, was a man of flame and iron — broad-shouldered, steel-eyed, and completely uninterested in weak sons.
Lior Halewyn, Rael's elder brother by three years, was everything a noble heir was expected to be: bold, loud, charismatic. He trained with twin swords and summoned flame runes by age six.
Rael watched from behind marble pillars and silken curtains, ignored, uncelebrated.
But he didn't care.
Because Lior wielded fire like a sword.
> And I… will wield it like a kingdom.
---
⚖️ The Awakening Ceremony
The Awakening was a rite of passage for noble children at age twelve — a magical evaluation that revealed one's Arcana Core, the elemental affinity tied to their blood.
In the central courtyard, nobles gathered, resplendent in crimson cloaks and gold-stitched robes. The Diviner's Orb floated above a marble altar, humming with ancient runes. Each child was to step forward and place a hand on the orb to be judged.
Rael stood at the edge of the line. Alone. Forgotten.
The courtyard shimmered with the morning sun, the scent of rose ash and incense heavy in the air.
"Lior Halewyn," the court mage called.
Lior stepped forward. Smiling. His footsteps deliberate.
He pressed his hand to the orb.
The artifact pulsed gold, then burst into radiant crimson.
"Arcana Affinity: Fire. Core Rank: Crowned."
The crowd applauded.
Duke Darius, watching from the upper terrace, gave a rare nod of approval.
"House Halewyn's future is bright," murmured a noble lady.
And then the mage's voice changed. "Rael Halewyn."
Silence.
Heads turned. Some whispered. Others laughed.
Rael stepped forward in plain black robes — no crest, no jewels, no expectations.
He touched the orb.
Nothing.
No glow. No hum. Not even a flicker.
Gasps spread across the crowd.
The court mage frowned, rechecked the runes. "Again," he ordered.
Rael touched it again.
Still nothing.
"Impossible," someone whispered. "He's of noble blood…"
The orb spun once and dimmed to black.
> "No detectable Arcana Core."
"Subject: Arcana Blind."
Lior laughed loudly. "Guess I'll be the only fire mage in this generation!"
Someone muttered, "A disgrace to the line…"
Another added, "Even commoners awaken embers."
Rael lowered his hand calmly.
He didn't argue.
He didn't cry.
He simply turned and walked away, while fire-hearted nobles chuckled behind him.
> Let them believe I am nothing.
For now… I am.
---
🕯️ That Night
In the silent dark of his small chamber, Rael stood before a single candle.
He focused on its flame.
So small. So pure.
And with a whisper in an ancient tongue long banned:
> "In solus ardor, ego sum."
In flame alone… I am.
The flame flickered.
Then bowed.
Rael didn't move. Didn't breathe.
> You still obey me, he thought.
Deep in his chest, beneath skin and bone, something stirred — a flicker of heat, a phantom pressure that didn't yet have form.
> The gods sealed my soul. But they could not erase my Arcana Flame. It's still here. Hidden. Waiting.
He opened his palm.
A single ember floated upward.
Then died.
---
🐉 In Dreams
That night, he dreamed of fire again.
But not the divine kind that killed him.
This was his fire.
And curled deep within it… a great beast stirred — long and serpentine, scales of obsidian and ember, wings folded like ruined banners.
> "You return, King of Ash."
"But your fire sleeps still. The world does not yet remember you. Shall I?"
Rael stared into the beast's molten eyes. "Wait for me."
> "I never left."
"Reclaim the flame. Unbind the sealed core. And burn their gods anew."
The dream shattered.
Rael woke sweating.
Smiling.
---
🔥 End of Chapter 2