Two eyes watched through the dense foliage from a safe distance.
They were not human eyes. They were more elongated, with irises of a deep yellow that reflected the firelight like the surface of a nocturnal lake.
They belonged to a slender and agile figure, almost invisible among the shadows, whose skin adopted a black coloration that camouflaged it perfectly within the surrounding nocturnal forest.
The observer had felt the light first. An orange flare that cut through the bluish darkness of the night forest.
Curious but cautious, it approached silently, its bare feet making no more sound than the breeze through the leaves.
And then it saw the human.
"Human?" the figure whispered to itself, its voice a soft sound that did not travel beyond its own lips.
It was unusual. Extremely rare, in fact, to find humans so deep within the Blue Forests. They normally remained near rivers, cities, and trade routes.
The observer tilted its head, studying the strange being. He was naked, which was even more bizarre.
Sitting near the fire, he seemed… contemplative. Not fearful, not lost, just thoughtful.
Then it happened.
Without warning, without hesitation, the human stood up, took two steps back, and ran straight into the flames.
The observer stifled a cry. Its muscles tensed, instinctively urging it to intervene, but its training told it to remain hidden.
It watched, horrified, as the figure writhed in the middle of the fire, its skin darkening, its body contorting in a macabre dance of self-inflicted pain.
The death was slow. Far too slow.
When the body finally stopped moving, reduced to a blackened, twisted shape among the embers, the observer released a breath it hadn't known it was holding.
"Why?" it murmured, its voice heavy with genuine perplexity.
Perhaps he was lost, starving, driven mad by the solitude of the forest. Perhaps he had been bitten by a venomous creature that induced insanity.
Perhaps… so many possibilities, but none fully explained the determination with which he had thrown himself into the flames.
The observer shook its head, its yellow eyes reflecting a mix of pity and relief. It was tragic, but it was not its problem. Humans were known for their irrational decisions at times.
It turned away, preparing to vanish back into the shadows, to continue its own nocturnal journey.
That was when the light returned.
Not the light of the fire, which still danced, consuming what remained of the wood. But a different light. Subtle, almost imperceptible at first, emanating from the charred body.
The observer froze, half-turned, its senses sharpening to their limit.
The blackened body moved.
Not a post-mortem spasm, not a final collapse. It was a deliberate, fluid movement.
The charred body rose. First the arms, which looked like burned branches rearticulating, then the torso, then the legs.
In one second, he was standing.
In another second, he stepped out of the campfire, his movement as smooth as if he were stepping out of a bath, not the heart of the flames.
Then, in the third second, the transformation happened.
It began at the feet. The black charcoal cracked like an eggshell, revealing pink, intact skin beneath. The regeneration climbed up the legs, a wave of life undoing death, rebuilding muscles, tendons, and blood vessels. When it reached the torso, the carbonized shell sloughed off in fragments that turned to dust before touching the ground, revealing an intact chest that rose and fell with a first breath.
The arms regenerated in a spiral, from the shoulders to the fingertips, each nail reappearing perfect. The neck, the chin, the mouth that now curved into a smile.
Last, the face. The black mask of burned flesh cracked down the middle, splitting in two and falling to the sides like shadowy wings. Beneath it, the skin was immaculate, the lips full, and the nose intact. And the eyes, when the charred eyelids opened, revealed gray eyes that shone with an inner light that had nothing to do with the fire.
The entire process took less than three seconds. From a charred corpse to a perfect, smiling man.
The observer was paralyzed, its heart pounding so loudly it feared the reborn one might hear it. Its training, its knowledge of the world, its understanding of reality… all collapsed in that moment.
This was impossible.
This was… divine? Demonic? Something beyond its comprehension.
The lurking being ran off without looking back.
…
Kyne woke up with a smile.
In truth, "woke up" was an inadequate term. It was more like emerging. From a deep darkness into vivid reality, from absolute agony into complete physical perfection.
The experience, he reflected as he stretched his newly regenerated limbs, had been several times worse than he had originally imagined. The pain of burning was different.
Not just a sensation, but a presence that consumed every thought, every cell, every instant of existence.
And he had loved every second of it.
Not only that, he had also loved what he had gained.
"Fire resistance." He murmured, looking at his hands. Hands that minutes earlier had been blackened, twisted claws of charcoal.
His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Clean, clear, unmarked by the hoarse screams that had accompanied it minutes before.
"Well, I'm obliged to test it, aren't I?"
He approached the campfire, which still burned vigorously, fed by the branches he had carefully stacked. This time, instead of jumping in all at once, Kyne extended his right hand and placed it directly into the flames.
The heat struck him, intense but not immediately destructive. His fingers did not char instantly as before. Instead, it took a few seconds for the skin to begin turning red.
A few more seconds until blisters formed. One more second until the true pain arrived, that sharp, piercing pain he now knew so well.
He pulled his hand back, observing the burns with interest. The resistance worked, but it was still minimal, Rank F-.
"I think I'd better make the most of this campfire…" Kyne murmured, a gleam in his eyes that would have terrified any normal person.
Decided, he wasted no time. He jumped into the campfire again, body and all.