Late Spring, Year 01 - The Floating Forge of Eryndor
Sunlight spilled through the clouds in trembling ribbons. Inside the Machiavelli forge, smoke curled like incense, carrying the scent of iron and cinnamon. Kain's hammer rang in steady rhythm—clang, pause, clang—each note chasing away the dream that had haunted him since last night.
He could still hear that voice.
"Every shadow seeks its light."
When he blinked, he thought he saw a faint shimmer of silver-black fire across the anvil, but it vanished before he could breathe.
"Still day-dreaming?" Daniel leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, grin lazy as ever. "If you're talking to invisible gods again, at least charge them rent."
Kain exhaled, setting the hammer down. "You heard the same thing I did, Dani."
"I heard a voice, yes," Daniel said. "Could have been Ix. Could have been bad wine."
"Father's wine doesn't talk."
"Not yet. Give Laora a few more experiments."
From the corridor came Laora's cheerful hum, followed by a pop and a puff of lavender smoke. "It only exploded a little!"
"See?" Daniel smiled. "She's improving."
Kain laughed despite himself. The warmth in this house could outshine any forge.
Later, when the others had left, he returned to the workbench. The ingot he'd forged yesterday lay there, faintly pulsing. He touched it. A whisper slithered through his mind—cold, endless, familiar.
"Child of Nihility… you carry My embers."
He froze. The air thickened; shadows deepened. The reflection in the cooling metal was not his own—it was a pair of mirrored stars blinking back.
"Ix…?" His voice came out small.
"The Flame of Nihility lies dormant in your blood. It devours lies, consumes despair, and births truth. Yet it demands balance. Feed it pride, and it will feast on you."
Kain's heartbeat quickened. "Why me?"
"Because you asked what it meant to create without destroying. The Flame is your answer."
The whisper faded. The metal on the table glowed softly—silver fire, swirling like ink in water.
"Kain? Why does it smell like reality's burning?" Daniel's voice cut through the quiet. He stepped in, his own shadow flickering oddly.
Kain lifted the ingot. The black-silver flame spread across his fingers, licking his skin without pain. It felt warm—alive.
Daniel whistled. "All right, that's new. Try not to melt the floor."
"I think it's safe."
"It's talking to you."
"That doesn't mean dangerous."
"It usually does."
They stared at the flame together. Its glow reflected in their eyes—Kain's silver, Daniel's gold—until Father Klaus appeared in the doorway, calm but firm.
"Put it down, both of you."
Kain obeyed instantly; Daniel pretended to, until the fire drifted toward him on its own, curling around his hand like smoke greeting an old friend. Klaus's gaze softened, though the weight in it was clear.
"So," he murmured, "the legends were true."
"The legends?" Kain asked.
Klaus stepped forward, resting a hand on each twin's shoulder. "The Flame of Nihility. When an Aeon's will meets a dragon's heart, the void remembers its song. It's a forgefire that doesn't burn matter—it reshapes meaning. Few ever survive it."
Daniel tilted his head. "Survive? That's reassuring."
Kain swallowed. "How do we control it?"
"Through purpose," Klaus said. "Forge with intent, not pride. Every blow of your hammer must carry truth."
That evening, they practiced in silence. Kain worked the bellows, Daniel adjusted the runes around the anvil. The forge roared—but not red. A halo of silver-black light spun above the coals, humming like a heartbeat.
The hammer rose.
Clang.
The flame pulsed, steady with his rhythm.
Clang.
It answered, forming shapes—threads of light weaving through the air, sketches of blades, leaves, even faces. For an instant Kain saw their mother's smile, gentle and fleeting.
He almost lost focus.
"Careful," Daniel warned softly. "It feels what you feel."
Kain steadied himself. "Then I'll give it something honest."
He struck once more, pouring everything—fear, hope, laughter—into the metal.
The flame shivered… then calmed, settling into a small, perfect sphere hovering above the anvil. It pulsed like a newborn star.
Klaus exhaled. "Congratulations, my sons. You've awakened it."
That night, Kain couldn't sleep. He sat at the window, the tiny sphere resting in his palm. The voice of Ix whispered again, quieter now, almost kind.
"Good. You've learned to breathe with the void. But remember—flame or not, you are still human. Creation demands warmth. Don't lose it."
He smiled faintly. "I won't."
Behind him, Daniel spoke from the shadows. "If it ever tries to eat you, I'll sell the ashes for a good price."
"Generous."
"Family discount."
They laughed softly, the flame's light dancing across their faces—two twins reflected in its glow: one the craftsman, one the merchant, both heirs to something ancient.
Outside, Eryndor drifted between stars, and the Aeon of Nihility watched from beyond, silent yet smiling.
[Status Update]
Name: Kain Machiavelli
Race: Half Nihility Aeon • Half Blood Dragon
Level: 3 Exp: 56 / 180
Tree Rank: Yesod (9th Sphere)
Guiding Aeon: Ix – Aeon of Nihility
Spirit Invoked: Van Helsing – First Dragon of Blood
Unique Skill: Shadow Nihility Flame Lv 1
Life Skills: Blacksmithing Lv 2 | Alchemy Lv 1
Bond: Daniel Machiavelli (Shared Oath of Twins)
Objective: Master the Flame of Nihility and prepare for the Academy Examination.
End of Chapter 2 – The Awakening Flame