Beneath power lies understanding. Beneath understanding... pain.
---
The wind in the northern outskirts of Solaris carried with it the scent of ash and memory.
Kaelith stood silently before the ruins of the old cathedral—once a shrine of twin light, now swallowed by time. The broken sun insignia above its arch still shimmered faintly, as though resisting its fall into silence.
He clenched his fist.
No knights. No tutors. No nobles with sharpened words and dulled blades.
Just him.
And the whisper that haunted his dreams ever since that day in the gardens:
"You will never catch up."
Vaeron's Solar Surge had split a canyon in the training grounds two weeks ago. The very earth had bent before his brother's might. Kaelith's own power… flickered in comparison.
Not anymore.
---
"So... this is the runt?"
A deep voice echoed from within the shadows of the cathedral.
Kaelith tensed, instinctively reaching for the hilt of the blade on his back.
A figure stepped forward—cloaked in midnight-grey, hair as silver as falling snow, and eyes that burned like dying stars. His aura made the air feel heavier. Ancient. Forgotten.
Kaelith lowered his blade slightly. "You are...?"
The man scoffed. "Name's lost to time. But they used to call me Varn the Hollow Flame. You can call me Master, if you survive the next five minutes."
Kaelith blinked. "Wait, what—"
WHAM!
A sudden wave of energy knocked him off his feet. It wasn't just magic—it was something denser, colder. A pulse of night hidden inside sunlight.
Kaelith groaned. "What was that…?"
"Your first lesson," Varn said, cracking his knuckles. "Solaris isn't just light. It's life. Rage. Balance. Every spark you summon is either one step toward greatness… or your own collapse."
---
The Twin Forces: Solaris and Lunaris
As days passed within the hidden sanctum below the cathedral, Varn introduced Kaelith to ancient teachings lost to royal archives.
Solaris Energy: The energy of day, flame, creation, and divine will. It responds to courage, willpower, and righteous fury.
Lunaris Energy: Its forgotten counterpart. The energy of night, shadow, intuition, and secrets. It responds to clarity, restraint, and self-mastery.
"You, boy," Varn muttered during one lesson, "are too pure. Too predictable. Solaris may answer you now, but only fire tempered by shadow can become divine flame."
Kaelith's training shifted rapidly.
Mornings: Varn had him meditate under a blazing sunstone, forcing Kaelith to absorb and control increasing amounts of Solaris energy. His body would tremble, sweat pour from him, muscles seizing as he learned to shape it, not burn from it.
Afternoons: Swordsmanship drills using shifting blades forged from dawnsteel. Each strike required Kaelith to pulse energy into the blade without losing focus—or it would backfire.
Nights: The cruelest training. Blindfolded, Kaelith was dropped into echoing caverns where Varn unleashed illusions of fear and despair. There, he learned to channel Lunaris—to feel what his eyes couldn't see, to sharpen his spirit, not just his senses.
---
One evening, as Kaelith collapsed to his knees during a dual-energy focus test, Varn sighed.
"You've grown," he admitted. "But you're still half-formed."
Kaelith looked up, panting, eyes glowing faintly gold and silver.
"I don't care," he whispered. "Even if I'm half of what Vaeron is… I'll give everything for the other half."
Varn smirked. For the first time, something like pride flickered in his eyes.
"Good. Then let me show you my final gift."
---
The Flame Vein Ritual
That night, under a full moon and blazing eclipse flame, Kaelith underwent the ancient rite known as the Flame Vein—etching the twin energies into his very bloodstream. Painful, dangerous, and irreversible.
He screamed as runes glowed across his chest and arms—one side flickering in golden fire, the other pulsing in silver mist.
By dawn, he stood.
Changed.
Ready.