The land of Ravannor had always known war.
Rolling fields of wheat had long since become scorched trenches and craters. Trees stood leafless, burned to bone. The sun hung low behind black clouds of ash, and the wind carried only the stench of steel and charred flesh.
Kael stood atop a ridge overlooking the carnage.
Below, two armies clashed in blood and fury:
— On one side, soldiers clad in white and gold—the High Temple's Holy Legion, with banners bearing the Eye of the Flame.
— On the other, ragtag rebels flying the crest of the Broken Sigil, wielding stolen flame, fury, and desperation.
In the center of the field, untouched by either side, stood a crater of glass, glowing with faint red light.
The fourth shard.
Kael felt it pulsing.
Even from here, it called.
Elira clenched her jaw.
"It's unstable. The shard is feeding on violence. It's growing stronger with every death."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"If it reaches critical mass…?"
"It won't just kill the soldiers. It'll burn everything in this region. Flame without will becomes a storm."
They descended into the chaos disguised as battlefield medics—Elira weaving illusion glyphs, Kael hiding the Codex beneath char-stained robes.
The smell of blood was everywhere.
Children screamed from behind ruined wagons. Clerics chanted healing prayers to half-dead soldiers. And above it all, that glow—the fourth shard, throbbing like a broken heart.
Kael moved toward it.
But then—a scream.
From the rebel side, a glyph-cannon ruptured. Flames consumed a trench filled with wounded.
Kael turned, instinctively moving to help.
Elira grabbed his arm.
"We don't have time."
Kael stared at the flames.
"They'll die."
"They'll all die if you don't claim the shard now."
His jaw clenched.
The shard pulsed again—now closer, louder.
"One life. One memory. One king."
Kael stepped into the glass crater.
Flame surrounded him—flickering ghosts of the dead, their last thoughts frozen in fire. Screams. Cries for mercy. Names never answered.
At the center floated the shard, wrapped in red lightning.
But this time, it didn't just wait.
It challenged.
From the flame stepped a woman—tall, cloaked in royal armor. Her face was familiar.
Kael froze.
"Mother?"
She smiled sadly.
"Not truly. Just her memory. The part your father burned away."
Kael's hands trembled.
"Why show me this now?"
"Because this shard doesn't test your strength. It tests your choice."
She pointed toward the battlefield.
"You can bind me now. Right here. It will grant you power. Vision. Another piece of the Flameking's soul."
She looked him in the eyes.
"But it will ignite the field. You'll lose everyone. Soldiers. Medics. Children. Elira."
Kael's heart pounded.
"There's no other way?"
"Of course there is." She stepped closer. "You can walk away. Save them. But you lose the shard forever."
The flame around him surged.
"So choose, Kael.
Are you king of fire—
Or just a boy who fears its price?"
Outside, Elira watched from the trench as both armies suddenly turned—
Toward the crater.
The shard had begun to pulse outward, cracks appearing in the glass beneath it.
She muttered, "Kael, whatever you're doing… do it fast."
Inside, Kael knelt.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. The ground shook.
He whispered,
"I don't want to choose between them."
His mother's memory touched his face.
"Then burn the lie that you must."
Kael's eyes widened.
In his hand, the First Flame ignited—not with rage, but compassion.
He raised it—
And for the first time, didn't strike at the shard.
He struck around it—drawing a glyph in the air, shaped from fire and will.
A new command.
A third path.
Outside, the battlefield went silent.
The crater erupted in light—
Not heat.
Not death.
But remembrance.
All soldiers dropped to their knees, eyes wide. Visions flashed through their minds:
A city in peace.
Flame used for healing.
A king dying not in rage—but sacrifice.
And then silence.
When it cleared—
The shard was gone.
And Kael stood at the center.
Changed.
He returned to Elira, drained but standing.
She raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't absorb it."
"No," he said. "I freed it. Let it return to the world, not to me."
"That's… not what the Codex teaches."
Kael opened the book.
A new line burned into the page:
"The greatest fire is the one that chooses not to burn."