By the end of the third minute, every cell of his body was on fire. The moment the last vestige of marrow was invaded by the white, the flame increased in intensity and brightness.
It was no longer translucent, but a bright white bonfire. Unseen by their eyes, the flame went into Rick's mind, through his glabella.
In that moment, it pierced the veil between his mind-space and soul, molding the two together, awakening them prematurely in order to purify them as well. In doing so, the white flame rushed into the imaginary space Rick had made.
A door works both ways. The flame was caught off guard, as the dark flame which seemed ready pounced, taking both Rick and the white flame by surprise. It fed on the energy quickly and escaped outside.
The Albrechts were shocked as another change came over the fire in its final leg. Like and ink spot in crystal-clear water, the dark flame spread from his head and clashed with the white fire.
The reaction was strong enough that winds rushed out as the effects of the fires broke through the illusory barrier and caused heat and ice to form spontaneously.
The sound of the howling winds was deafening. Even the usually composed matriarch stood up from her seat, leaving it to fall behind her.
The flames were never supposed to be this strong, to affect the physical world. Ossenia had fully lost her composure at this point and was visibly panicking.
Meanwhile, the balance had been Broken on Rick's side. The black flame was growing stronger, and the pressure had moved past what was the edge of what he could handle. He was about to drown.
He wanted to hold on, to find a solution, but he wasn't prepared for it. He lost consciousness. Just after the flame came out. It hadn't had the opportunity to propagate or to properly manifest itself before the mind that sustained it collapsed.
Immediately, all of the phenomena vanished as if they were never there. The cold receded and the heat dissipated. The air became still once again. All the evidence that remained was a naked Irik in Mira's embrace.
In fact, the final flare had destroyed both their clothing, no. Strangely enough, despite being in the center of the conflagration, Mira was surprisingly unaffected, if the soot covering her form head to toe was removed from the equation.
"Is it over?" Esme's timid voice asked.
"Yes, he is now the flame bearer of your generation. If any of you wishes to challenge him for the position of heir, all you have to do is to go through the same process of awakening your talent, and last longer."
"What does it mean to be the Flame Bearer, Father." Brandon asked.
"It means that he has opened the way for all of you to manifest your auras. Without the pain, of course. That flame you saw was his. Usually its golden. Only if you mutate can you have the differences your brothers show."
"What do the colors mean? Is he going to be okay? Mutating isn't going to put his life in danger is it?" Ben, battery of the Bright Family asked. He was evidently worried about his brother.
"The color means the type of mutation. Each is unique. But yes he is going to be okay. He will be awake by the time we arrive. Mutation by itself isn't dangerous, but it will attract some, well lets say dangerous interests in him. He might also have to pioneer his own way forward, but that's his lot. Bright Mutants are always monsters."
"Wait" Bran said, his voice childish but his gaze betraying the weight of maturity." You said arrive, where are we going?"
"Why to the capital of course. The King has something to announce, and on my son's birthday no less. This is no doubt another of their plots, but we have to go. Your grandfather made a promise. We will honor it."
Their grandfather had been the original Duke Albrecht at the founding of the Albrecht family, At the founding of the Vaught, the kingdom of the Vales. Yes the Albrecht family only spanned 3 generations, despite the fact that they had been a presence for all 600 years of the kingdom.
That is because Albrecht had been an absurdly powerful practitioner who only had an heir after serving for 600 years, who was the current 60-ish year old Baron. After having the Baron, the Duke only stuck around to raise him to 18, and then disappeared.
Rumor has it the King had him killed, because shortly after, the Albrechts had lost everything save for their safe haven. The Baron was not the powerhouse he became at the time. How could he? One could only properly begin cultivating after 18.
"Anyway. Him being the flame bearer means that when the time comes for you to awaken as well, you do not have to go through such pain. Unless, of course you wish to challenge him for the rule of the family. In which case Life Burn will judge you."
He said, putting the pitch black sword back into its golden sheath. The sheath was a splendid piece of art. It was designed completely with shades of gold, with motifs of mighty warriors and terrible beasts adorning its wondrous shell. These were the feats of the Baron.
As he did so, however the sheath started to change. The sheath changed to reflect the feats and power of its owner. It was a herald, to the death that was coming to the opponent. Many dreaded when Life Burn was to be drawn.
For Irik, Life Burns sheath took on a completely different color scheme. Instead of shades of gold, the sheath was a solid black on one half and a solid white on the other.
This was the color scheme lengthwise for the first half of the sheath and then the colors switched places at that point.
And then again at the three quarter point, and then the final time at the seven eighths point just before the sheath tapered to a point. It was like the whole sword formed a checkered pattern.
The Baron clapped his hands and said "Places people. Its showtime."
In a minute, the entirety of the family had scrambled back to their seats and looked composed. The seats of the attendants were stowed away and their plates cleared. The doors opened once again and the servants walked in, to find a naked Irik on the floor passed out with Mira, with evidence that they had been burnt and frozen then healed.
A few compassionate ones looked at the young heir with pity. The Baron was known for his fire, Sylvia for her healing, and Ossenia for her Ice.
This looked to be a team effort.
Pity there was no social services in the world to save the young man.