The night was still burning in Kaen's mind.
The screams. The fire. The monstrous roar.
Each sound lingered like a scar he could not tear away.
But amid the smoke and ruin, his heart clung to something else.
Memories.
The faces of those he loved most.
The Mother
It began with her.
Kaen remembered his mother's hands—soft, though worn from years of work in the fields and by the hearth. Hands that always smelled faintly of herbs and bread. She would wake before dawn, humming as she stoked the fire, and Kaen, as a boy, would pretend to stay asleep just to hear her song a little longer.
"Kaen, don't you dare skip breakfast," she would scold with a smile, sliding a bowl of hot porridge before him. No matter how tired she was, she always made sure he ate first.
He could still feel the way she brushed his hair from his eyes, even when he was far too old for such gestures. To her, he would always be her first child.
Her flame.
The Siblings
And then came the laughter of his siblings.
His brother, Arlen—three years younger, reckless and bold. Always chasing Kaen's shadow, stubbornly copying everything his older brother did.
"If Kaen can climb the oak, I can climb higher!" he'd shout, even as he scraped his knees. Kaen would always be there, catching him, scolding him, secretly proud.
His sisters, Lyra and Sera, were gentler, though no less troublesome.
Lyra, the eldest, weaving flower crowns and forcing them onto his head, giggling when he groaned.
Sera, the youngest, wide-eyed and timid, clinging to his hand as if letting go would make the world too frightening.
They were his world.
And he was theirs.
The Promise
He remembered chasing fireflies with Arlen until the fields glowed like starlight.
Lyra's crooked flower crown that made him "King of Orvale."
Sera squealing on his shoulders as festival dancers spun below.
He remembered thunder nights, when Sera cried and Lyra hid beneath blankets. Their mother would gather them close, and Kaen—though trembling himself—would whisper, "Don't be scared. I'll protect you."
That was the promise he had always carried.
The role he had chosen before anyone asked him to.
To be their protector.
To be the one who kept them safe.
The Present – Ashes
The memory dissolved into smoke.
Kaen's eyes snapped open.
The night was no longer filled with laughter, but with ruin.
Smoke clawed at his lungs. The stench of charred flesh and wood clung to the air. Houses groaned as they collapsed into ash. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard faint cries… or perhaps only the echo of screams already gone.
And then—
"…Kaen…"
A voice.
Weak. Trembling. Familiar.
Mother.
His heart lurched. His legs moved before thought.
The Brother
He stumbled into the ruins of his home, stepping over broken beams and glowing embers. His palms tore open against splinters, but he didn't stop.
And then—he saw him.
Arlen.
His little brother lay crumpled in the corner, his body torn apart, lifeless eyes staring at nothing. Blood soaked the dirt beneath him. His wooden practice sword—snapped in two—rested by his side.
Kaen froze. His breath vanished.
"No… no, no, no…" His voice shook. His hands reached, but the warmth was already gone.
Arlen—the boy who followed him everywhere, who shouted his name with pride—was gone.
A piece of Kaen's chest caved in.
But he staggered forward. He had to.
The Sisters
Through the smoke, he found them.
Lyra and Sera.
Their bodies lay together, blood soaking their dresses. Their little hands reached for each other even in death, as though refusing to be parted.
Kaen fell to his knees. His fists dug into the ash. His body shook violently.
"Lyra… Sera…" His voice cracked into a whisper.
Memories of flower crowns. Of festival lights. Of tiny hands gripping his own.
All shattered.
Tears blurred his vision. He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart.
But only silence came.
A silence more terrifying than any roar of beast.
The Mother
And then—he saw her.
His mother.
Collapsed against a blackened beam, her chest rising shallowly. Blood painted her lips. Her body trembled with each breath.
"Mother!" Kaen rushed forward, lifting her into his arms. "I'm here, I'll find help, just—please hold on—"
Her eyes opened slightly, soft and warm, even in pain. She smiled faintly.
"…Kaen…"
"Don't speak! Save your strength!" His words trembled, desperate.
Her hand rose. Shaking. Trembling. But gentle.
She cupped his cheek.
"Don't cry, my son."
His tears fell freely now, staining her bloodied skin.
"I couldn't protect them… I wasn't strong enough…"
Her eyes softened.
"You are strong. Not because of your fists… but because of your heart."
Her voice weakened, her breath faltering.
"Promise me… live as a man who helps others. Stand for the weak. Protect the lost. Carry the light for those who cannot…"
Her lips curved faintly into a final smile.
"…You… will always be… my ember."
Her hand fell still.
Her warmth faded.
And Kaen's world broke.
The Ember
The ruins fell silent.
Only the crackle of fire and Kaen's sobs remained.
He clutched her lifeless body to his chest, forehead pressed against her. His tears spilled onto her blood.
In that silence, something stirred.
Not in the ruins.
Not in the flames.
But in him.
A flicker.
Small. Fragile.
An ember.
Kaen didn't notice. Not yet.
He only wept—
As the night of ruin swallowed his world whole.