The mountain air was cold for once — not with wind or rain, but with the hush that precedes truth.
Kael stood at the edge of the Draken Crypts, buried deep beneath the Roost of Skarvalas. This wasn't a place the living visited lightly. It was sacred — a shrine for bloodlines thought extinct, where names carved into bone walls told stories lost to fire and time.
But the flame inside Kael had led him here.
And it was calling.
Serenya waited at the arch behind him, leaning against an obsidian pillar laced with silver inlay.
"You sure you want to see what's down there?" she asked.
Kael didn't look back.
"I need to."
The descent was silent.
Torches lit one by one as Kael passed, responding not to touch — but to the ember pulsing in his chest. The deeper he walked, the more his body felt strange… light, yet heavy. Like something in his blood was resonating with the air itself.
He reached a circular chamber carved with concentric dragon sigils — some familiar, others long faded.
At the center stood a pedestal.
On it: a scroll sealed in hardened flameglass, ancient and warm to the touch.
Kael unsealed it.
As the glass cracked open, a wave of memory surged outward, slamming into him like a tide.
He staggered, gasping—
—And saw a vision not of Aurex.
But of a woman.
She stood tall, cloaked in winged shadow, her eyes the color of duskfire. Her skin shimmered faintly with scale patterns. She was beautiful. Fearless. Alone.
"My name was Nyvera, last of the Flamebonded Queens," she said, her voice echoing through the chamber.
"And my son will burn brighter than the gods ever dared."
Kael's breath caught.
"My… mother?"
"I carried Aurex's spark in secret," Nyvera continued. "When the war turned, and Ravon hunted us one by one, I hid. Not in shame — but in hope."
"You were born in exile, Kael. Not by accident, but design. A last gambit. A bloodline born of both mortal and divine flame."
"You are not human."
"You are Flameborn."
"Half god. Half wyrm. All fire."
The vision vanished.
Kael collapsed to one knee, heart hammering. His skin burned — not in pain, but as if every cell was rewriting itself.
The ember in his chest surged — and for a moment, he saw her hand in his.
His mother's.
Nyvera's.
Then it faded.
Serenya appeared at his side.
"Kael—?"
"She knew," he breathed. "She knew who I'd become."
"I'm not just carrying Aurex's flame. I'm his blood."
"I was hidden from Ravon. Shielded from prophecy. Raised weak… so I could become strong on my own."
"I was the contingency."
"The last will of the dragon god."
Serenya stared at him — not in fear, but in stunned realization.
"You're not just a vessel," she said.
"You're the heir."
Kael rose, the emberlight around him growing stronger — not wild, but purposeful. It shaped itself to his frame like armor. His shadow stretched longer… more draconic.
He turned toward the crypt's exit, eyes glowing gold-red.
"Then it's time Ravon met the bloodline he missed."
In the dark, the fire did not rage.
It promised.