Edward POV
The Ashen Ring hadn't burned me since that first night, but I could still feel it—like embers resting beneath my skin. Sometimes, when I focused too hard, I could hear it hum. Not like a song. More like a distant, rumbling storm.
I kept it hidden under my gloves. No one had noticed—yet.
But something had changed. I hadn't had a full night of sleep since wearing it. And when I did dream, I saw cities burning. Screaming. Smoke blotting out the sky. I woke up sweating and breathing fire—literally.
This morning, I scorched my bedsheets by accident. Angelina nearly panicked when she came in.
And now I was walking into the Academy.
With this thing on my finger.
⸻
The schoolyard was busy as always. Students sparred in the courtyard, magic instructors called out training drills, and laughter echoed from noble cliques standing in the shade.
No one looked at me.
No one ever did.
Except for him.
"Look who crawled out of his rich little tomb," said Alex Flame, standing beside his two goons near the training circle. His smirk was the same as always—wide and sharp. "Did your mommy teach you how to lift a sword yet?"
I ignored him and kept walking.
"You really should quit pretending, Saber," he called after me, loud enough for the others to hear. "Everyone knows you're just living in your father's shadow. Let it go. You don't belong here."
I stopped.
He always did this. Every. Single. Week.
I turned around, calm on the outside, boiling inside.
"Want to prove that?" I said quietly.
His smirk faded just a bit. "What?"
"You talk like you're stronger than me. Then show me."
The crowd grew still. Even the instructors turned their heads.
"Edward," one of the instructors warned, "You know you're not supposed to challenge outside training periods."
But Alex was already moving into the dueling circle. "It's fine," he said, drawing his blade—a curved sword with a glowing red edge. "We'll make it quick."
I stepped in. My blade felt cold in my hand, but my palm burned from the ring.
"Try not to cry when you lose," Alex sneered.
I said nothing.
⸻
The duel began.
He charged first, fire trailing behind his blade as he slashed. I dodged—barely. His strikes were fast, and heat burst from every swing. The crowd cheered, expecting him to win easily.
Then I felt it.
The ring. It wasn't just humming anymore. It was alive. Like it wanted me to fight. Wanted me to burn.
My hand twitched. My sword caught flame.
Real flame.
It ignited from the metal like it had been soaked in oil—but it was no spell I'd cast.
The duel froze.
Even Alex stumbled back.
"What the hell—"
I didn't stop. I swung.
The flame moved with the blade—not like an enchantment, but like a living thing. It slashed through the air, not just searing—but slicing through his fire like it was paper.
He staggered, eyes wide. "That's not your magic. That's—!"
I didn't hear the rest.
The ring pulsed.
My vision flickered—and in a blink, I saw him not as Alex, but as an outline in glowing red. I could see his movements before he made them. His balance. His weakness.
I struck again.
The tip of my blade stopped inches from his neck.
His sword clattered to the ground.
Everyone went silent.
⸻
"What… was that?" whispered one of the students.
Even the instructors didn't speak.
Alex stumbled back, pale, humiliated. "You… you cheated," he hissed.
"No," I said. "I won."
The crowd murmured.
I could already feel it—their doubt cracking. Their opinions shifting. And yet…
I looked at my hand, still warm. The ring's ember-glow had faded.
And it scared me.
⸻
Later that night
"You were reckless," Astaroth growled in my head.
"He challenged me."
"You nearly revealed the ring's nature. That was no simple spark—that was ashen fire. That kind of magic hasn't existed for forty years. If someone saw what it truly was—"
"I didn't lose control."
He paused.
Then, calmly, he said: "Next time, you might."
⸻
Elsewhere
In the northern wastelands, an ancient vault stirred. Something beneath the snow shifted. Its bindings trembled as a second relic—dormant for decades—awakened.
The Ashen Ring had spoken.
And the forgotten relics of the past were listening.