The journey beyond the temple took them through forgotten valleys and ancient trails carved into the cliffs by hands long turned to dust.
Eren said little. Lyra stayed alert, blades always near. Kael, though weary, pressed forward, his Mark guiding him with gentle pulses, as if tugging his soul toward something older than memory.
On the fourth day, the wind shifted.
"We're close," Eren murmured, dropping to one knee. He touched the ground, where a faint outline of a sigil half buried in soil, glowed faintly. "This was once the stronghold of the last Flamebearer council."
They descended a rocky ridge. Hidden beneath a waterfall, sealed by flame locked glyphs, stood an enormous door, carved with a single burning eye.
Kael stepped forward. The Mark lit up bright, golden blue. The eye on the door blinked once, then slid open with a thunderous groan.
They entered.
The chamber beyond stretched wider than any temple Kael had ever seen. Statues of forgotten warriors lined the walls. Floating braziers illuminated murals stories painted in fire. There were thrones of stone, now broken, where ancient Flamebearers once gathered.
In the center, a massive crystal pulsed with firelight.
"This was the heart of their power," Eren whispered. "etherflame. The purest form of elemental fire."
Kael approached it. As he reached out, the flames inside shifted,showing him a vision:
A girl with blue hair and glowing fists, fighting a beast of shadow.
Lyra.
But then the vision twisted.
The same beast turned toward him—its face burning with the Black Flame King's cruel grin.
.....
.....
A portal cracked open in the sky above a quiet mountain village near the ruins.
From it descended a figure cloaked in red-black robes, face hidden beneath a porcelain mask with hollow eyes. The grass beneath his feet withered. The sky darkened.
He raised a single, bony hand and flame, black as night swept across the village like a wave.
When the screams stopped, only ash remained.
He looked toward the mountain.
"The Heir walks in sacred ground," he said softly. "The King desires his heart."
He vanished in a whirl of smoke.
...
...
Back in the ruins, Kael collapsed, gasping.
"I saw him," he said. "He's coming."
Eren's face darkened. "Then we don't have much time."
Lyra drew her blades. "Let him come. We'll show him fire."
Kael stood, fists clenched. "No—we'll find the Flamebearers, awaken what's left of them… and burn his darkness out of the sky."
Above them, the etherflame blazed brighter.
And far away, the Black Flame King opened his burning eyes.
.....
.....
Kael stepped through the glowing archway, the etherflame's pulse still echoing in his veins. The inner sanctum of the Flamebearer ruins stretched before him, a hall of fire and stone, its walls covered in runes that shimmered as if reacting to his presence.
Lyra followed closely, her eyes scanning every shadow. "I don't like how quiet it is."
"Neither do I," Eren muttered.
In the center of the chamber, surrounded by a circle of scorched symbols, stood three relics:
A gauntlet, carved from obsidian and laced with molten lines.
A curved blade, pulsing with inner fire.
A cloak of embers, still flickering like it had just come off a burning warrior.
"These were theirs," Eren whispered. "The Last Flamebearers."
As Kael reached for the gauntlet, the Mark on his forearm flared white and hot. The relic snapped to his hand like it recognized him. Flames spiraled around his arm, not burning but strengthening.
"Kael," Lyra warned. "We're not alone."
Outside the ruins, the sky cracked.
The masked emissary stepped out of a swirl of ash, landing with a graceful silence. His robes moved as if they were smoke, and the mask he wore bore no mouth—only empty eyes and a blood-red flame drawn on the forehead.
"I smell the Heir," he said softly.
He walked forward—and the trees caught fire in his wake.
....
....
Inside, Kael barely had time to steady himself before the doors exploded inward.
Flames surged. Lyra leapt back, daggers out.
Through the smoke came the emissary.
He didn't speak. He simply raised his hand and the room ignited.
Kael countered with his Mark, flames clashing in midair. The force of it sent rubble flying.
"He's here for you," Lyra shouted, dodging a blast of black fire.
Kael charged. The gauntlet burned brighter with each punch he threw, but the masked Man moved like smoke, untouchable and inhuman.
Lyra landed a kick to his side, slicing him with a hidden blade. He didn't bleed. He just laughed, a hollow, echoing sound from behind the mask.
"You are not ready."
The emissary lifted his hand. Fire gathered in a sphere, black and churning.
Kael stood firm.
But before the blow could land, Eren intervened, slamming his staff into the ground. A burst of etherflame erupted between them, shielding Kael and Lyra.
"You'll not take him," Eren growled.
The masked figure stepped back, singed. "Another time."
He vanished into ash.
Kael fell to one knee, panting. The gauntlet cooled. Lyra helped him up, her hand steady.
"He was testing you," she said. "Next time, he'll come to kill."
Kael looked at the glowing blade and cloak still resting in the chamber.
"Then next time, we'll be ready."
He picked up the blade.
And the fire within it roared to life.
----
----
The morning sun filtered through the broken pillars of the Flamebearer sanctuary, casting shifting light over Kael's form as he trained in the courtyard, his blade now alive with inner fire, the gauntlet pulsing with same rhythm as his heartbeat.
Each strike destroyed stone. Each punch sent shockwaves through the air.
Eren stood nearby, arms crossed. "The relics are choosing you, Kael. But they will also test you. Power like this always has a price."
Kael panted but nodded. "Then I'll pay it. Whatever it takes."
From the corner of the ruins, Lyra watched silently—her arms folded, expression unreadable. She had sparred with Kael earlier and had been caught off guard by how quickly he adapted. He smiled more now. He moved with purpose.
.....
.....
That night, Eren led them deeper into the Emberwild, a land long swallowed by ash and time. Somewhere ahead lay the ruins of Ashveil Hold, a once-great Flamebearer outpost said to hold forbidden knowledge of the Black Flame King's first awakening.
As they approached the broken gates, a strange humming filled the air. The scent of cold fire lingered, a sign of an unnatural presence.
That's when they found her.
Lying on a heap of burnt roots, a girl with snow white hair, faint golden lashes, and bloodied robes.
"She's breathing," Kael said, kneeling beside her.
Lyra stepped forward, frowning. "It could be a trap."
But the girl opened her eyes, pale violet, soft and glowing and smiled faintly at Kael.
"You're the one they call the Heir," she whispered. "I've been dreaming about you."
Kael hesitated. "What's your name?"
She coughed, then said, "Oma."
They brought her inside what remained of Ashveil Hold. As Kael wrapped her wounds, Oma held his gaze a little too long. Her hand lingered when he passed her water. She giggled softly when he spoke, even cracked a joke about his messy hair.
Lyra stood by the door, arms tight, jaw tighter.
"She doesn't seem weak anymore," Lyra muttered to Eren.
"She doesn't seem ordinary either," Eren replied.
Later that night, Oma sat beside Kael near the fire.
"You're stronger than I imagined," she said. "But strength alone won't stop what's coming."
Kael looked up. "You know about the Black Flame King?"
"I was born from what he left behind," Oma whispered. "But I've chosen to defy him."
Lyra stepped between them, suddenly. "He doesn't need more riddles, he needs real allies."
Oma tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "Then I guess he's lucky to have you… watching over him so closely."
The fire cracked.
Kael blinked between them, unsure if the heat he felt was from the flames or the sparks about to fly.
....
....
Ashveil Hold was a shell of its former glory. Crumbled statues of ancient Flamebearers lined the entrance, their once-proud visages worn down by centuries of wind and ruin. But deep below—beneath the shattered floors and sealed tombs—the secrets of the Black Flame King waited.
Kael adjusted his gauntlet, the relic still humming with energy. Oma walked beside him, her white hair flowing like mist in the torchlight.
Lyra trailed behind.
Too quiet. Too tense.
"So what's the plan?" Oma asked sweetly. "You lead, I follow?" she added.
"I lead," Lyra snapped before Kael could answer. "You follow. And stay close unless you want to be ash."
It was obvious that Lyra was irritated by Oma's sweetness towards Kael.
Oma smiled, unbothered. "How protective of you."
Kael cleared his throat. "Let's focus."
As they moved deeper into the catacombs, the air thickened. Flames from their torches bent in odd directions, drawn toward a pulse of dark ether ahead.
Suddenly, the stone beneath them cracked open and three shadow beasts leapt out, eyes burning crimson, bodies stitched from ash and bone.
Kael raised his blade, flames roaring to life. "Positions!"
Lyra darted right, blades slicing a beast's throat in a blur of sparks.
Oma stepped beside Kael, her hands glowing icy blue. "Let me show you what I can do."
She released a burst of frostfire that froze one creature mid-leap. Kael followed up with a crushing blow, shattering it into embers.
Lyra stood still watching them angrily.
....
....
After the battle, they found a sealed chamber with runes warning: "Only the Broken Flame May Enter."
"It's calling you," Oma said, her hand brushing Kael's arm.
Lyra stepped between them. "Enough. We need to rest. We're not diving into cursed tombs without rest, you never know what waiting in there"
Kael paused. "She's right. We'll camp here."
That night, as Eren stood watch, tension hung thick around the fire.
Lyra sat apart, sharpening her blade with quiet fury.
Kael approached her slowly. "You alright?"
She didn't look at him. "She's hiding something."
"Maybe," Kael admitted. "But she helped us. Saved us."
Lyra stood, finally meeting his eyes. "So that's all it takes now? Pretty face. Magical ice. A few sweet words?"
Kael blinked. "Lyra, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying," she said, voice tight, "don't lose yourself chasing the first girl who looks at you like you're more than fire and scars."
Before he could respond, she walked away.
Kael sat by the fire, staring into the embers.
Oma silently joined him a moment later, resting her head on his shoulder.
"You fought bravely today Kael," she whispered. "I am grateful for having some like you by my side."
He didn't move.
But in his chest, something cracked and he wasn't sure if it was longing… or guilt.