When Rowan opened his eyes, he saw the ending of a strange rune slipping into his chest. The rune had appeared almost alive, and a chill had spread across his bones, making them feel incredibly cold, and his flesh was hot.
Trying to find this rune inside him was a bit hard since the rune seemed determined to escape from his grasp.
Rowan smiled, it had been a while since he had something elude him for as long as this rune was doing. There was a certain playfulness to it that reminded him of the Lost Flames.
A playfulness that hid the terrible and dangerous power they controlled.
His smile faded as the recollection of past memories took away his happiness. His memories were one of his most powerful assets, but it was in times like these that he almost regretted having them.
The Lost Flames was among the few in his memories that gave him nothing but joy. He was a good kid, and to weaken a Primordial, Rowan had sacrificed his power into the New Light.
