The wind howled through the trees like an ancient voice calling from the edges of time.
Artemis sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. His breath came fast, and the sound of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was—until his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight seeping through the wooden shutters. He was back in the Bakers' cottage, in the small room he shared with Kael.
But the dream lingered.
Not just a dream—something more.
He could still feel the heat of flames licking at his skin. Still hear the deep, thunderous voice that spoke only one word:
"Artemis."
It had said his name again.
And just like before, the moment he woke up, the pendant around his neck pulsed faintly, as though it had its own heartbeat. His fingers wrapped around it instinctively. The metal was warm, far warmer than it should be. Almost… alive.
He sat in silence, listening. Kael's gentle snores came from the bed across the room. The rest of the house was still. Not even the floorboards creaked.
But outside?
The forest was stirring.
He could feel it—deep in his bones. A quiet beckoning, like a forgotten song trying to claw its way back into memory. And he knew, without fully understanding why, that if he ignored it tonight, he might never find it again.
Artemis swung his legs off the bed and stood. He moved silently, grabbing his boots and slipping into his coat. The pendant glowed faintly under his shirt, its light hidden from the world.
As he stepped outside into the night, the cool air bit at his cheeks, but it couldn't dampen the fire coursing through his veins.
He was being called.
And he had to answer.
---
The path through the forest was familiar, yet different.
Every branch seemed to lean in, every leaf shimmered under the moonlight as if guiding him forward. The usual sounds of crickets and owls were replaced by an eerie silence, heavy and expectant. Shadows danced along the moss-covered trunks of trees. The forest, once a place of calm solitude, now felt alive with ancient memory.
Artemis walked with purpose, though he didn't know where he was going. His feet moved on instinct, guided more by feeling than reason.
After nearly an hour of winding paths and strange turns, he came upon a clearing he had never seen before.
The trees here were older—twisted and gnarled, their roots breaking through the earth like skeletal fingers. At the center of the clearing stood a broken archway of black stone, half-swallowed by vines and time. Around it, the ground was uneven, scattered with slabs of stone, some cracked, some etched with symbols he couldn't read.
He stepped closer.
The pendant throbbed with heat.
This place… it recognized him.
A large stone slab lay tilted against the base of the arch. Artemis crouched beside it, brushing away centuries of dirt and moss. What he uncovered stole the breath from his lungs.
Carved into the stone was a figure with outstretched wings—not angelic, but draconic. And below it, a swirling spiral that looked eerily similar to the pattern on his pendant.
His fingers reached out, tracing the carvings.
The moment he touched it—
Everything changed.
Everything vanished.
The cold of the forest. The weight of his body. Even the beat of his heart.
He wasn't dreaming.
He wasn't awake.
He simply… was seeing something
The world around him was no longer the familiar woods. Instead, he stood atop a vast, jagged mountain, the sky above burning crimson. Black clouds churned like boiling ink, and lightning flashed with golden fury. He felt the heat on his skin, the wind tugging at his coat, the sharp tang of ash in the air. It was too real to be imagination.
He looked down—his hands, his feet—they were his own. But he wasn't wearing his clothes. He wore something ancient: scaled leather armor, laced with gold and fire. A sword was strapped to his back.
This wasn't just a dream.
This felt like a memory. One that didn't belong to him… and yet did.
The sky thundered. From above, dragons soared — dozens of them — wings stretching wide, shadows cutting across the fiery heavens. Their roars cracked the sky open. The mountain trembled beneath his feet.
And then came the man.
Towering. Regal. His armor shimmered like burning metal, forged from the heart of the earth. His face was partly obscured by the hood of a dark cloak, but his eyes—those glowing, molten gold eyes—pierced directly into Artemis's soul.
"You've come," the man said, his voice both old and powerful. "Not as you were… but as you are meant to be."
Artemis tried to speak but found his mouth unmoving. He was frozen—not with fear, but with recognition. Somehow, he knew this man. Not by name, but by essence. Like he had known him before time itself.
"You are the echo," the man continued. "The spark that remains.And soon, the fire will rise again."
Behind him, the skies cracked open entirely, revealing flashes of devastation: an army cloaked in shadows marching against the dragons; towers crumbling; a kingdom burning; a child—barefoot and crying—carried away by moonlight.
The man turned toward the chaos and lifted his sword.
And then, he whispered the words that would sear into Artemis's soul:
"Only through fire shall the blood awaken."
The mountain shook violently.
The wind howled.
And just as suddenly as it began—
---
His consciousness snapped back.
Artemis gasped and fell backward, hitting the forest floor hard.
He clutched his chest, lungs burning, heart racing.
For a long moment, he lay there, blinking at the canopy above, unable to move.
Had that really happened?
It hadn't felt like a dream.
It had felt like a place. A memory. A world he had once belonged to.
And when he sat up, his fingers trembling, the pendant was no longer just warm — it was glowing faintly.
And on his palm, where it had brushed the stone, the mark remained.
Golden. Spiraling.
Faintly pulsing.
Like a memory he couldn't unsee.
His hand trembled as he reached toward the glowing mark on his palm, but it faded before he could touch it—leaving behind only a faint warmth beneath the skin, like embers that refused to die.
He looked at his hand in disbelief. No scar. No wound.
And yet… he knew something had changed.
The pendant around his neck no longer glowed, but he could still feel its energy—like a slumbering beast curled close to his heart, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
Artemis stood slowly, legs weak beneath him. He staggered a step back and stared at the stone slab he had touched. It was dull now. Just stone. Silent and unmoving. The carvings no longer shimmered. The spiral design stared back at him, empty yet watchful, as if it had given him a piece of something vast—and was waiting to see what he would do with it.
The forest was quiet again.
Not the eerie silence from before, but a strange stillness. Respectful. As if the trees themselves had witnessed what happened and chose not to disturb it.
He turned in a slow circle, taking in the ancient ruins around him. The broken archway. The scattered stones. The roots creeping like veins through forgotten earth.
This place wasn't just a ruin.
It was a memory carved into the land.
And somehow… it remembered him.
Or rather, it remembered the blood that now pulsed through his veins.
He swallowed hard.
The man in the vision—his voice, his eyes, that sword made of fire and sorrow—it haunted him. There had been power in every word, but also grief. Loneliness. Like the man had once stood before the end of the world and lost everything worth fighting for.
Artemis clenched his fists.
"Who are you?" he whispered into the wind. "And who… am I?"
His voice sounded small in the vastness of the forest, but the trees listened.
A breeze stirred the leaves, brushing his face like a cold whisper. He almost thought he heard an answer, hidden in the rustling:
"Vaelion…"
The name drifted through his mind, foreign yet familiar. He didn't know how he knew it. It sat on his tongue like a word from a forgotten language—sacred, heavy with history.
Was that the man's name?
Was he a king? A dragon? A memory?
And the flames, the war, the child…
The images flashed again in his mind—more vivid now that he had seen them with open eyes.
A kingdom fallen. A child hidden. A fire waiting to rise.
And in the center of it all—him.
A shiver ran down Artemis's spine.
None of this made sense. And yet it did. Somewhere deep inside, in the parts of him untouched by the quiet village life, it made perfect sense.
The dragon wings in his dreams. The strange pendant. The way the forest responded to him. The spirits. The voice that whispered his name.
He was part of something ancient.
Something far older than he could comprehend.
And whatever it was… it wasn't finished.
---
By the time he made his way back through the forest, the sky had begun to pale.
The first hints of dawn crept over the horizon, turning the mist between the trees a soft gold. The birds had begun to sing again, timidly at first, like children unsure if the storm had truly passed.
Artemis paused at the edge of the clearing and looked back.
He could no longer see the ruins. The trees had shifted behind him, as if closing the path to anyone who did not belong. Or perhaps, as if protecting a secret that had finally started to stir.
He touched the pendant once more.
It felt… quieter now. Like a heart that had cried out and was finally resting again.
But the weight of what he had seen had not lessened. If anything, it pressed down harder.
He walked home in silence, boots soft against the dewy ground, lost in thought.
---
When he reached the Baker cottage, the light was only beginning to fill the sky.
He opened the door quietly and slipped inside, moving past the kitchen and into the room he shared with Kael. His brother was still asleep, tangled in blankets and snoring softly, completely unaware of the storm that had passed just beyond the trees.
Artemis sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the wooden floorboards.
Everything felt normal.
Too normal.
The room smelled like woodsmoke and wool. A half-finished drawing sat on the desk. His boots were muddy. There was a cobweb in the corner he had been meaning to brush away.
But he wasn't the same anymore.
He ran a hand through his damp hair and leaned back on his hands, staring at the ceiling.
Was he going mad?
Was this all some fantasy his mind had made up?
But no… that vision had been real. More real than anything he'd ever known.
And the mark on his palm—though faded—was proof.
He couldn't explain it. Couldn't tell anyone. Not even Kael and arion.
Not yet.
They would think he'd lost his mind.they all will laugh at him and make fun of him
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing the storm of thoughts to quiet.he was trying to sleep but those vision was running in his mind
This was just the beginning.
He could feel it.
Something had awakened. Not just in him, but in the world around him. The balance was shifting. Old powers were stirring. And he was no longer just a boy with strange dreams.
He was something more.
Something forgotten.
Something dangerous.
He lay back slowly, letting the soft mattress cradle him.
His last thought before drifting into a shallow sleep was a single question—one he knew would follow him in every step to come.
"If I'm not just Artemis Baker… then what truth sleeps within my blood?"