Fsssshhh...
The air still shimmered with the heat of battle. Smoke curled lazily from the scorched ruins of Emberhold, drifting up to the blood-orange sky like a funeral prayer.
Rivan sat on a broken stone pillar, his gauntlet darkened and steaming.
His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the weight of what he had done.
Malek was gone. Or so it seemed.
But something inside Rivan whispered...
"He's not dead."
Kael limped toward him, a cloth tied around a gash on his thigh.
"You did it," he said quietly.
"No," Rivan whispered, voice hoarse. "I survived. That's not the same."
Kael sat beside him. "Surviving is victory when you're fighting fire with fire."
Rivan didn't reply. His eyes remained locked on the scorched path where Malek had vanished in a cyclone of flame and ash.
Suddenly, he clenched his fist—CRACK!—embers flared from the gauntlet.
"He was holding back. Playing with me."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You burned him into nothing."
"But it didn't feel like a win…" Rivan muttered. "He wanted me to fight. He was testing me."
Kael sighed. "Then train harder. Next time, don't give him a second chance."
Rivan stood slowly, the pain in his ribs still sharp. "Next time, I won't."
Later That Night – Emberhold's Inner Chamber
The chamber was eerily quiet. The moonlight streamed in through shattered windows, casting silver over the dusty floor.
Rivan paced back and forth, his thoughts a whirlwind.
"He said I was the flame prince... How many more know who I am now?"
Kael entered, holding a weathered scroll. "Something came in the wind. Found this near the edge of the ruins."
He tossed the scroll to Rivan.
Rivan caught it. The wax seal was black, imprinted with a burning tree—the mark of the Ashborn.
He unrolled it slowly.
"To the Last Flameborn:
The fire in your blood is a threat.
Submit, or watch the world burn.
—The Ash King"
Rivan's jaw clenched. His breath caught fire again.
"Tsk tsk tsk… such dramatic threats."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "He's toying with you. The Ash King wouldn't waste parchment unless he wanted you to react."
"I will react," Rivan growled. "By burning his throne to the ground."
Kael smirked. "That's the spirit."
Flashback – The Whispering Stone
That night, Rivan couldn't sleep.
The battle played on repeat in his mind—Malek's laugh, the heat, the pain.
Driven by restlessness, he wandered to the far corner of Emberhold, where an ancient stone stood buried in vines and ash.
The Whispering Stone.
He had passed it before. Kael said it was a relic of the old Flame Kings. But now, it called to him.
He placed his hand upon it.
Fwoooosh…
Flames erupted around him—but they didn't burn.
The world blurred, twisting.
And suddenly, he stood in a vision—an ancient battlefield.
Corpses littered the charred earth. Firestorms raged across the horizon.
At the center stood a man clad in gold-red armor, twin swords in hand, roaring to the sky as the ash rained down.
"They burned our lands... they silenced our names... BUT WE ARE FIRE!"
The vision snapped.
GASP!
Rivan fell back, heart pounding.
"What the hell was that…"
The stone whispered faintly.
"Remember who you are…"
The Stranger
Morning came.
Kael was packing supplies near the broken gate when a shadow moved beyond the treeline.
Crunch. Crunch.
Footsteps.
Rivan spun, fire already flickering from his fingers.
A cloaked figure emerged—slim, tall, wearing a mask carved from blackwood.
Kael stepped forward. "State your name!"
The stranger raised both hands. "Peace. I bring news… and warning."
"From who?"
The figure pulled back their hood.
It was a girl—no older than Rivan—her hair pure white, eyes glowing faintly blue.
"My name is Seris. I am from the Kingdom of Wind."
Rivan narrowed his gaze. "Wind Kingdom? You're far from home."
She stepped closer. "And so are the Ashborn. They move through our skies like vultures. My queen sent me to find the Flame Heir. To offer alliance."
Rivan exchanged a look with Kael.
"And how did you know where to find us?" Kael asked.
Seris smiled faintly. "You burned half a mountain. Kind of hard to miss."
"Hah." Rivan let out a short laugh.
"But there's more," she added seriously. "The Ashborn General Malek... he didn't die."
Rivan's breath caught.
"I saw him two nights ago near our border. Alive. Burning villages."
Kael swore under his breath. "Damn it…"
Seris looked at Rivan. "He's hunting you. He wants you to follow."
Rivan stared into the distance. "Then he'll get what he wants."
Training with Wind
That afternoon, Seris stayed and watched Rivan train.
"You're reckless," she commented as he launched another fire burst into the dummy.
FWOOSH!
He turned. "It works."
"For now." She raised her palm. A spiral of wind twisted around her fingers. "But what if your flame is smothered?"
She flicked the air.
WHOOOSH— a gust blew Rivan off balance.
He staggered.
"Hey!"
"Elemental combat isn't just about power," she said calmly. "It's a dance. You push. I pull. You burn. I twist."
Kael chuckled. "She's got you there."
"Fine," Rivan grunted. "Then teach me."
The next hour was a blur of dodges, bursts, and elemental clashes. Fire met wind, heat warped air, and sweat soaked the ground.
At one point, Seris spun mid-air and sent a cyclone at him.
"Defend!"
Rivan planted his feet, raised the gauntlet, and—
BOOOM!
The wind collided with fire, creating a sonic shockwave that flattened the training area.
Both of them lay on their backs, coughing.
"Haha… okay…" Rivan wheezed. "You're not bad."
"Neither are you," Seris grinned.
Kael stood over them, arms crossed. "Next time, warn me before you flatten half the fortress."
Nightfall – Visions Return
That night, Rivan had no dreams.
Only visions.
He stood before a throne of obsidian, surrounded by thousands of kneeling Ashborn.
A figure sat upon the throne—shrouded in shadows, crowned in flame.
The Ash King.
"Ah, the boy prince comes," the voice echoed, deep and cold.
Rivan tried to move—but couldn't.
"You have power… but you are still weak."
"Who are you?" Rivan snarled.
The Ash King leaned forward, and for a moment, Rivan saw his face—
It was his own.
"You are me. You just don't know it yet."
GASP!
Rivan awoke, drenched in sweat.
Final Scene – The Road Ahead
Morning broke, and Emberhold was alive with motion.
Kael, Seris, and Rivan prepared to leave.
"Where are we going?" Seris asked.
Rivan pulled his cloak tight and turned toward the east.
"To Icevale," he said. "We need allies. And I need answers."
Kael nodded. "Then we move fast. The Ashborn won't wait."
Seris took to the skies, wind carrying her.
Kael followed on horseback.
Rivan took one last look at Emberhold, now silent, its bones glowing faintly.
"I'll come back," he whispered. "And when I do… I'll bring the fire."
He clenched his fist.
The gauntlet blazed.
To be continued...