The next day, Emberhold pulsed with life. The Festival of Embers had begun. Lanterns floated on threads of heat, suspended by carefully crafted fire runes, casting a golden glow over the obsidian streets. Children danced in firelit circles, trailing sparks from painted wooden rods, and the scent of spiced meat and honeybread filled the air. Merchants hawked flame-forged trinkets, and even the normally grim Emberguard wore crimson sashes of celebration.
Kaelin moved like a ghost through the crowd. The shard, wrapped in cloth and hidden in a pouch at his belt, radiated warmth against his hip. He felt the weight of it—not just in mass, but in meaning. Since the explosion in his forge, something in him had changed. The fire obeyed him. It knew him.
He kept his head down, hood pulled low. Whispers trailed him. Someone had seen what happened. He'd tried to lie low, but strange things followed him—fires lighting spontaneously, animals fleeing at his approach. He'd become a question mark in a city that feared the unknown.
At the center of Emberhold, a towering pyre stood ready. As the flame-dancers took to the square in flowing ember-colored robes, Kaelin found himself drawn forward. The dancers moved in perfect unison, shaping fire into swirling patterns, a living tapestry of heat and beauty. Then the high priest of the Ember Temple stepped forward to deliver the blessing.
That was when it happened. The shard pulsed violently. Kaelin staggered forward, eyes wide. His hands burned with invisible fire. He fell to his knees. A surge of flame erupted from his palms, coiling into the sky like a serpent wreathed in gold and crimson.
Gasps turned to screams. The dancers scattered. Guards shouted. The fire twisted into an ancient sigil high above before dissipating. Kaelin stood, shaking, surrounded by silence.
"Witchfire!" someone cried.
That was enough. The crowd turned. Soldiers moved in. Kaelin turned and ran, fire blooming around his feet, guiding him through alleyways and over rooftops. He didn't look back.
He had become a curse to his city.