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.