he morning after the vision came without sunlight.
Thick clouds pressed over the mountains like smoke, dimming the valley below. Inside the Sanctum of Echoes, Kael stood in silence before the silver pool that had shown him Sereth's fall. His reflection looked older somehow — not by years, but by the weight in his eyes.
Behind him, Nerai's voice broke the stillness.
"You saw her truth, didn't you?"
Kael didn't turn. "She showed me what happens when power takes control."
Nerai's steps were slow, deliberate. "No. She showed you what happens when one denies what they are. Sereth tried to be more than balance — and became its shadow. You must learn to walk the edge she fell from."
Kael clenched his fist. "And if I fall too?"
Nerai's mismatched eyes caught the dim light. "Then I'll be there to drag you back… or bury you myself."
Lira flinched. "That's not funny."
Nerai didn't smile. "It wasn't meant to be."
He motioned toward the pool. "We begin your training now. Eryndor — draw the circle."
The old mage nodded, tracing symbols across the floor with the tip of his staff. Each rune flared alive, filling the air with threads of energy that made the stone hum beneath Kael's boots.
"The fire within you is not only destruction," Nerai said. "It is memory. Power shaped by emotion. You must learn to command it — not through rage, but will."
Kael stepped into the circle. Silver light rippled through him instantly, burning along his veins like molten chains. His heart thundered.
"Focus," Nerai said sharply. "See your flame. Name it."
Kael's vision blurred — then cleared into a burning storm. He saw silver wings folding over a blackened world, a thousand voices crying out. Pain. Rage. Fear.
"It's too much—!"
"Control it!" Nerai's voice cracked through the storm. "You do not fear your fire — it fears you!"
Kael roared, the sound not human — a dragon's cry bursting from his chest. Silver flame erupted around him, rising like a spiral. The runes on the ground flared white-hot.
Lira reached forward. "Kael, stop—!"
But Nerai raised a hand. "No. Let him burn."
For a terrifying moment, it seemed Kael would vanish into the fire entirely — then the light folded inward, shrinking until only a faint glow remained beneath his skin. He fell to his knees, gasping, smoke curling from his palms.
Eryndor let out a slow breath. "He did it."
Nerai crouched beside Kael, his tone calm but his eyes sharp.
"No, not yet. He touched the flame, but hasn't shaped it. The next time he loses control, that fire won't burn the air — it will burn him."
Kael looked up at him weakly. "Then teach me how to stop that from happening."
Nerai's gaze softened — just slightly.
"That's exactly what I intend to do."
Outside the Sanctum, thunder rumbled — not from the sky, but from the far horizon.
Deep in the Dark Valley, Sereth's generals were stirring.
And one of them whispered Kael's name.