The shrine smelled of damp stone and old incense, the air heavy with the weight of forgotten prayers. Kael stood frozen, every muscle taut, as the cloaked figure stepped closer.
Shadow pooled unnaturally at the man's feet, as though the night bent around him.
"You shouldn't be here," Kael said, his voice cracking. "This place is abandoned."
The stranger chuckled, a sound like gravel rolling down a mountain. "Abandoned by men, perhaps. Not by fate."
Kael swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
The hood tilted, revealing little more than the curve of a jaw lined with age. "Names are heavy things. Too heavy for a first meeting. For now, call me… a watcher."
"A watcher of what?"
"You."
The word struck like a hammer. Kael stepped back, his heel brushing against broken stone.
The man raised a hand in a calming gesture. "Don't mistake me for your enemy, boy. If I meant you harm, you would already be ash on the wind."
That did nothing to ease the chill crawling Kael's spine. His fists clenched. "Then what do you want?"
The stranger's gaze—though hidden—felt sharp enough to pierce bone. "I want to see whether you will break, or awaken."
Kael's chest tightened. "Awaken…?"
The man tapped his staff against the ground. A faint ripple spread outward, disturbing the dust. "The Shadowfire chose you. You've already felt its hunger, haven't you? Cold flames licking your bones, a power that does not burn but devours."
Kael staggered back as the memory surged—the men screaming, the fire wrapping around his hands, his own voice begging it to stop.
He shook his head violently. "No. I didn't choose this. I don't want it!"
The stranger's voice softened, almost kind. "Do you think choice matters? Rivers do not choose to flow, nor mountains to stand. Power comes, whether we desire it or not. The only choice you have… is whether to master it, or let it master you."
Kael's throat tightened. He hated the truth in those words. Hated it because it echoed his deepest fear—that he was no longer in control of himself.
"I'm not like you," he whispered. "I'm just… I'm nothing."
The cloaked man tilted his head. "Is that what you believe, or what they've told you to believe?"
Kael froze.
The man stepped closer. "All your life, they called you talentless. A failure. A shadow among brighter stars. But shadows have their own strength, Kael Ardyn. And yours is darker—and more dangerous—than any of them can imagine."
Hearing his name from the stranger's lips sent a jolt through him. "How do you know who I am?"
"I know more than that." The man's tone deepened. "I know why you've always been different. Why your parents disappeared. Why the clans would kill you the moment they saw that mark on your chest."
Kael's breath caught. His nails dug into his palms. "You knew my parents?"
Silence stretched between them. Then, softly, the stranger said: "Yes. And one day, you'll learn what they gave up so you could live."
Kael's heart pounded in his ears. A storm of emotions surged—grief for parents he barely remembered, fury at being left with nothing but a broken pendant, and now this gnawing hunger for answers.
"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me everything."
The man chuckled again, but there was no mockery in it this time—only a strange weariness. "Not yet. Truth is heavier than steel, boy. Carry it too soon, and it will crush you."
Kael's fists trembled. "Then why come at all? To dangle riddles in front of me?"
"No." The stranger leaned forward, and though his face remained hidden, Kael felt the weight of his gaze like a fire on his skin. "I came to offer you a choice."
The word sent a shiver down Kael's spine.
"You can bury your head, pretend nothing has changed, and live the life of a hunted rat—always afraid, always hiding. Or…" The man's staff tapped the stone again, and for a moment, Kael swore the shadows themselves bent closer to listen. "…you can learn to wield what you've been given. Train it. Master it. And one day, use it to carve your own place in a world that would rather see you erased."
Kael's throat was dry. His mind screamed to refuse—to run, to hide, to cling to the fragile normalcy he had left.
But another voice whispered, quieter yet sharper: You've never belonged anywhere. You've always been nothing. And now… now you have a chance to be more.
His fists tightened.
"If I agree," he asked slowly, "what happens?"
The stranger straightened. "Then I will guide you. Not with kindness, not with mercy. Power is not a gift—it's a burden. If you want to survive it, you must be willing to bleed for it."
Kael's heart pounded, fear and resolve warring inside him.
Finally, he whispered: "I don't want to be afraid anymore."
The man nodded, as though that was the only answer he had expected. "Good. Then your path begins tonight."
They left the shrine together, the city already sinking into dusk. The stranger led Kael through twisting alleys and hidden stairways, moving with an ease that made Kael wonder if he had walked these streets all his life.
At last, they emerged into the ruins of an ancient courtyard, half-swallowed by ivy and silence. Broken columns jutted toward the stars, and at the center, a dry fountain lay cracked and empty.
"This place will serve," the stranger said. He planted his staff firmly into the earth, and the air shifted. Faint runes flickered to life across the ground, glowing with a dull, forgotten light.
Kael stared. "What is this?"
"An echo," the man replied. "A training ground abandoned by the clans long ago. They feared what was built here. Feared what it might awaken."
The runes pulsed, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
The stranger turned to him. "Show me the fire."
Kael stiffened. "I… I can't control it. I don't even know how I called it last time."
"Fear called it," the man said simply. "Fear and desperation. But power cannot be chained by fear alone. You must touch it willingly."
Kael shook his head. "What if I hurt someone? What if I can't stop it?"
The man's gaze was unyielding. "Then you will learn the cost of weakness. Better to fail here than out there, where failure means death."
Kael's breath trembled. He wanted to run. But somewhere deep inside, beneath the fear, a spark of stubbornness burned.
He closed his eyes. Reached inward.
At first, there was nothing but the frantic beat of his heart. Then—faint, distant—he felt it. Cold fire, coiled in the depths of his chest, waiting.
His skin prickled. Shadows stirred.
The sigil flared to life.
Dark flame licked across his arms, curling like serpents. Kael gasped, his eyes snapping open to see the world swallowed in black and violet glow. The courtyard seemed smaller, fragile, as if the flames might devour it all.
"Good," the stranger said, his tone unreadable. "Now hold it."
Kael gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. The fire writhed wildly, feeding on his panic, threatening to surge out of control. His arms trembled.
"I can't—!"
"You can," the man barked. "Focus. Do not fight the flame. Guide it."
Kael tried. Gods, he tried. But the fire was alive, hungry, thrashing against his grip like a beast. His chest ached. His vision blurred.
And then—
The fire erupted outward in a wave, shattering the courtyard stones. Kael was thrown to the ground, gasping, his body weak as water. The flames vanished, leaving only smoke and the echo of power in the air.
He coughed, his hands raw against the stone. "I told you… I can't control it."
The stranger approached slowly. For a long moment, Kael braced himself for scorn.
Instead, the man extended a hand.
"You failed," he said calmly. "And that is good."
Kael blinked up at him. "Good?"
"Because now you know what failure feels like. Remember it. Fear it. And use it to drive you further than any rival, any clan, any enemy."
Kael hesitated, then took the hand. The stranger's grip was firm, grounding.
"Rest now," the man said. "Tomorrow, we begin again. And again. Until the flame obeys."
Kael's chest still ached, his body trembling from exhaustion. But beneath the shame, a spark flickered.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't being dismissed. He wasn't being mocked.
For the first time, someone believed he could become more.