The wind carried the scent of damp moss and burning dreams.
Alonso stumbled through the forest, clutching his glowing
palm. Every heartbeat felt like thunder inside his chest. The mark pulsed in rhythm, whispering fire into his veins.
When he reached a stream, he knelt, trembling. The water
reflected not a frightened boy but eyes shot through with amber light. He barely recognized himself.
"Was this what the voice meant?" he muttered. "Blood
remembers what flesh forgets…"Leaves rustled.
Put out that light," a low voice ordered.
From the trees emerged a man cloaked in gray hair silvered,beard tangled, staff carved from living oak. His eyes burned the way coals do before dawn.
"I can't," Alonso stammered. "It won't stop."
The stranger's gaze softened. "Then you are truly cursed or
chosen.He raised a hand, and the air cooled. Alonso's mark dimmed.
My name is Kael, the man said. Once I served the
Mage-Council of Draventh. Now I live among roots and silence. Tell me, boy who taught you to call fire by its true name?
No one, Alonso answered. "I didn't even know I could."
Kael studied him a long while, then sighed. "The Flameborn
returns after fourteen winters… Come, child. If you would live, you must learn before the fire devours you."
So began Alonso's second life.