The storm rolled over the horizon like a living beast, its thunder growling low across the high cliffs of Solaris Reach. Wind tore across the jagged landscape, sweeping through spires of black stone and rattling the ancient chains that held the suspended bridges together. Below them, the abyss roared with a ceaseless, violent wind—a reminder that the world Kael Draven Solaris was born into was never gentle, never quiet, never merciful.
Kael stood at the cliff's edge, his cloak wrapped tightly around him, dark hair whipping wildly. His silver-star eyes—an uncommon and almost unsettling brilliance—reflected the storm clouds curling above. Most people feared the abyss; he, however, felt it call to him.
He had felt it since the day he survived the impossible.
Since the day he should've died.
Sixteen years had passed, but the memory refused to fade. Even now, as the storm shook the cliffs, he saw flashes—hands reaching out, a collapsing sky, a red moon shattering, voices screaming his name… and then, the heat. A blinding, burning heat that should have ended him, yet somehow birthed him anew.
They called it a miracle.
He believed it was a curse.
Behind him, footsteps echoed. Precise. Measured. Familiar.
"You're brooding again," a soft voice said.
Kael didn't turn; he didn't need to. Only one person walked with that blend of grace and irritation.
Lyra Veylan, his childhood friend and the sharpest tongue in Solaris Reach, came to stand beside him. Her deep-violet hair fluttered in the wind like a waving banner, and her golden eyes narrowed as she studied his expression.
"You always find the highest, most dangerous spot every time the weather gets bad," she said. "Do you have a death wish or something?"
He exhaled through his nose. "If I did, you'd be the first to scold me about it."
"I'd scold your corpse too," she shot back. "Don't test me."
A faint smile tugged at Kael's lips despite the heaviness in his chest. Lyra had always been like this—blunt, fearless, and totally unimpressed by storms, abyssal cliffs, or Kael's increasingly unsettling behavior. She grounded him even when the rest of the world whispered that he was cursed, tainted, a walking omen.
She nudged him with her elbow. "Come on. Today's the Selection. You can't be late for something that decides whether you live freely or get forced into military training until your soul evaporates."
"I'm aware," Kael muttered.
Lyra crossed her arms. "Then stop staring into the abyss like it's your long-lost lover."
Kael finally turned away from the cliff. The storm clouds were growing heavier, spiraling toward the Reach like an omen. He always felt storms—felt them in his bones, in the strange fire that flickered under his skin.
He had learned to hide it.
Because if the Council ever discovered what truly burned inside him…
He would be executed.
The Path to Destiny
They walked together along the narrow cliff bridge, its ancient planks creaking under their steps. Lightning danced overhead, illuminating the towering architecture of Solaris Reach—massive stone structures connected by suspended pathways and glowing sigils etched into the rock. Everything here was old, older than the kingdom itself.
And Kael's birth was tied to those ancient secrets.
Lyra glanced at him as they crossed. "You're quiet today. More than usual. What's going on in that skull of yours?"
"Nothing important."
She snorted. "Liar. You forget I've known you since we were eight. I can tell when you're hiding something."
He hesitated.
There was something—something new. Last night, the burning in his chest returned, hotter than before, pulsing with each beat of his heart. And during that dream—the one that haunted him for years—the red moon cracked again, and a shadowed figure whispered:
"Awaken."
But Kael couldn't tell her any of that.
Not yet.
Lyra noticed his hesitation, but wisely chose not to push further. She understood him too well.
They continued down the spiraling steps carved into the mountainside until they reached the heart of the Reach—a sprawling courtyard where hundreds of young men and women had gathered. Banners fluttered, guards patrolled, and the air buzzed with tension.
The Selection Ceremony.
Everyone at age sixteen had to go through it. The tests determined your affinity—your abilities, your future, your worth. Powerful affinities earned glory and privilege. Weak ones meant hard labor, conscription, or obscurity.
Kael expected nothing.
He wasn't supposed to have any affinity at all.
He wasn't supposed to be alive.
Whispers and Stares
As he and Lyra entered the courtyard, whispers spread quickly.
"There he is… Kael Solaris."
"The cursed child."
"No, the miracle child."
"I heard he survived the Red Moon Collapse."
"His eyes… they're unnatural."
The usual.
Kael ignored them.
Lyra didn't.
One boy whispered too loudly. "I bet he won't pass the first test. People like him shouldn't even be allowed—"
Lyra turned, her voice sharp as a blade. "Say one more word and I'll personally drag you to the abyss and ask it to teach you manners."
The boy paled. "I—I didn't—"
"Move," she snapped.
He scrambled away.
Kael sighed. "You don't have to defend me."
"Someone has to," Lyra said. "Since you refuse to do it yourself."
He didn't argue.
A sharp horn blared through the courtyard. The crowd shifted, forming a path as armored soldiers marched in with polished spears and cloaks marked with the crest of Solaris—a sun crowned by fire.
Then, stepping into the center with an aura of authority, came:
High Arbiter Seraphine Vylaris, the woman whose word had the power to change destinies.
Her silver armor gleamed, glowing faintly with runic light. She swept her gaze over the teenagers gathered before her.
"Citizens of Solaris Reach," she announced, her voice carrying effortlessly. "Today marks the beginning of your fate. Your affinities will determine your path. But know this—power does not define honor. Effort does."
The teenagers murmured.
"Step forward when your name is called."
One by one, the tests began.
The Test That Should Have Been Simple
The first test measured elemental resonance. A stone pillar stood at the center—etched with runes of fire, water, wind, and earth. Touching it revealed which element you were attuned to.
Lyra went before Kael.
She placed her hand on the pillar, and the runes of Wind burst into glowing gold. A soft gust encircled her, lifting her hair.
The crowd cheered. Lyra smirked confidently and stepped aside.
Kael stepped forward next.
The courtyard fell quiet.
People watched him with a mixture of curiosity and unease. They wanted to see the anomaly fail. They wanted proof that the boy who survived death wasn't blessed—he was defective.
Kael exhaled slowly, calming his heartbeat. He touched the cold stone.
Nothing happened.
A few snickers broke out.
"See? No affinity."
"Knew it."
"Cursed child…"
Kael started to pull his hand away—
The pillar exploded with light.
The runes didn't glow.
They burned.
Fire—blinding, violent—erupted from the stone, swirling around Kael like a raging cyclone. The wind howled, the air cracked, and heat blasted outward. Several people stumbled back as the flames grew hotter and hotter until—
The fire turned black.
A soundless flash tore through the courtyard.
Silence.
Everything froze.
Black fire—something no one had ever seen—coiled around Kael's arm like a living serpent.
Lyra's mouth dropped. "What… the hell…?"
Even the High Arbiter's eyes widened, the first sign of her composure breaking.
The pillar continued to shake violently, runes splintering, cracks spreading until—
CRACK.
The entire testing pillar split straight down the middle.
A collective gasp swept the courtyard.
Kael staggered back, numb, heart racing. The black flames flickered wildly, then vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
Whispers surged like a tidal wave.
"What was that?"
"Black flame—impossible!"
"Did he… destroy the testing relic?"
"That thing's lasted for four centuries!"
Kael looked at his hand. It was shaking.
He didn't know whether he should be terrified… or relieved.
Destiny Shifts
High Arbiter Seraphine strode toward him, her expression unreadable. She stopped directly in front of Kael.
"Name," she said.
Kael swallowed. "Kael Draven Solaris."
Her gaze intensified. "Who taught you to manipulate that power?"
"No one," he answered. "I didn't even know I had it."
She studied him for a long, tense moment.
"Your results are… unprecedented," she finally said. "You are neither fire-affine nor elemental-empty. What burns inside you is something ancient—something I have only read about in forbidden texts."
Kael felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"What… does that mean?" he asked quietly.
Seraphine leaned closer, voice low.
"It means you are not meant for an ordinary path," she whispered. "And the world will not treat you kindly for it."
Behind her, the storm thundered louder, as if reacting to her words.
"For now," she continued aloud, "you will be classified as Undetermined High-Tier until further evaluation."
Gasps erupted.
No one had been classified as that in over a century.
She turned to the crowd. "The ceremony continues. Kael Solaris—you will report to the upper citadel at dawn tomorrow."
Kael blinked. "Tomorrow? Why?"
"Because your destiny has been rewritten," Seraphine said. "And Solaris Reach cannot afford to ignore what you are becoming."
The Beginning of Something Awakened
As the ceremony resumed, Kael stepped aside, his mind spinning. Lyra rushed to him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Kael, what in the name of the abyss was that!?" she whispered fiercely. "Black fire? You destroyed a four-hundred-year-old relic!"
"I didn't mean to," Kael muttered, dazed. "It just… happened."
"Are you okay?"
He hesitated.
A warmth still pulsed in his chest—deep, ancient, powerful.
"A little scared," he admitted.
Lyra softened. "Whatever this is… you're not facing it alone. Got it?"
Kael met her fierce golden eyes and nodded, silently grateful.
But in the depths of his mind, the dream resurfaced.
The shattering moon.
The burning sky.
The shadowed figure whispering to him again:
Awaken.
As thunder cracked overhead, Kael Draven Solaris realized his quiet life had ended the moment he touched that pillar.
Something had awakened.
And the world would never be the same.