The fires of the central forge roared as Caelum Solmere descended into the Vaults of Solari, the sanctified chamber beneath Crescent Academy where only high-borns of celestial lineage were permitted.
Three blades hovered over molten stone, each once belonging to ancestors of divine heritage. Caelum stood before the central flame, letting the heat scorch his senses clean.
> "Strength is not born from privilege," his father voice echoed in memory. "But from trials that no one sees."
He reached for the flame—not with his hands, but with his will.
The Celestial Flame that slept within him stirred, answering the call.
The molten forge split, revealing a glowing sigil of binding, one last created by Solarian the Flame-Sire, the original progenitor of House Solmere.
> "You're not ready," came a voice from the darkness behind him.
He turned sharply.
It was Instructor Vahrius, once a battle-mage general and now guardian of the Vault. His grey hair was bound in warrior knots, and one eye had been replaced with an ember-gem that flickered with judgment.
> "Power without purpose burns the wielder. You don't yet understand your role."
> "Then teach me."
> "No. Purpose is not taught. It is forged. You want the truth of your lineage? Face the trial Solarian faced."
He raised his hand, and the chamber shifted. Flame turned to shadow, stone to smoke.
Caelum was cast into a visionary realm—Solarian's memory, but also his test.
---
Meanwhile, in the eastern border encampment, Seren Elowen rode beside the scout company, her eyes scanning the ruined arches of ancient Tharvalon.
> "Wards are broken," muttered Captain Janthus. "Whatever was sealed here has stirred."
Seren dismounted. The runes beneath her sleeves shimmered.
> "Stay behind. If the rebels have laid enchantments, I'll nullify them first."
As she approached the cratered heart of the ruins, her heart skipped.
A figure stood there, clad in dark ceremonial robes, face half-shrouded.
> "Seren Elowen," he said, as though tasting her name. "The righteous flame of the academy."
> "Who are you?"
> "A shadow cast by the sun. A truth you were never told."
He lifted his hand, and thorned runes erupted, but they didn't attack—they surrounded her in illusion.
> A memory... of her as a child… a forbidden text… her mother's secret teachings… and a voice whispering:
> "The light you follow is built on buried lies."
Seren broke the illusion, gasping.
> "You… you're not just a rebel. You're one of us."
> "Not anymore."
He vanished in a blink, leaving behind only a sigil made of thorns and mirrored flame.
---
Back in the Vault, Caelum stood before an ancient figure—Solari himself, or a projection of him.
> "You carry my blood," the specter said. "But will you carry my burden?"
The sky above cracked, revealing a battlefield of angels and abominations, of light wielders betraying their own.
> "We abandoned the weaker bloodlines. Called it divine right. Do you still believe in that?"
Caelum's hands trembled.
> "No. I want to change it."
The specter smiled faintly. "Then your flame shall burn differently."
A golden crest formed over Caelum's chest, reshaping itself into a new emblem—half-sun, half-pillar, entwined with thorns.
> "The Flame of Revelation. It will show you what others wish to hide. Use it wisely."
---
Caelum awoke in the Vault, the mark still glowing on his chest. Vahrius watched him silently.
> "You carry something new now," he said. "Not just fire, but weight."
Caelum stood, resolved.
> "Then it's time I stop just surviving the court. It's time I begin reshaping it."
---
Far away, the Thorned Heir stood atop a desecrated temple, holding a scroll stolen from the royal archives. On it, a lineage long erased—his lineage.
Behind him, Valtros knelt. "The next phase?"
> "Send whispers into the academy. Tell them the prince's flame burns with stolen power. Let doubt grow. I want them unsure… until it's too late."
He turned toward the horizon where Crescent Academy gleamed like a star.
> "Let the Crown of Light shine brighter. It only makes the thorns easier to strike."