Chapter 2 Shadows Beneath The Flame

Liora sat by the hearth, her blanket pulled tight around her shoulders as the last embers of the fire gave off a dim, flickering glow. Her damp hair clung to her skin, drying slowly in the warmth. The storm outside had finally passed, but the tempest within her still raged. "You're the last Flameborn." The words echoed endlessly in her mind. Dalen hadn't spoken again after revealing the truth. He moved with heavy steps around the room, gathering old books and locked boxes with trembling hands. Eventually, he handed her a leather-bound journal.

The cover was blackened and the edges curled, scorched by fire. She took it with reverence. "This belonged to your mother," he said, voice rough. "I swore never to open it unless the mark returned." Inside were sketches of the Flameborn sigil-curved lines that formed a flame, nearly identical to the one on her palm. Diagrams filled with constellations, a blazing star encased in a ring, and a place labeled "The Ember Veil." "Serenya Elwyn," Liora whispered, tracing the name scribbled along the page's edge. Dalen gave a solemn nod. "She died protecting you-from those who would've ended the Flameborn line. I was her friend. I owed her my life." "You knew all along," she said, the ache in her throat tight. "All these years, you let me believe I was cursed." His gaze met hers. "Would you have believed anything else?" She looked back down at the pages. They pulsed with meaning she didn't yet grasp, written partly in a language unfamiliar to her. But something inside her stirred-a memory not hers, a fire not yet lit. --- Morning came slowly, the air thick with mist. Out beyond Eldranth, the forest lay shrouded in fog, the trees dripping with last night's rain. Perched high in the boughs of an ancient pine, a lone figure crouched. Kael Draven had followed the signs for days-energy flares only a trained Warden could sense. The mark was active again. He hadn't believed the reports until now. He adjusted the scope on his scrying lens, fine-tuning the magical frequency. Through the ethereal view, he could see Liora moving about outside the apothecary's cottage, her palm faintly pulsing with blue light. "So," he muttered. "It's true." She didn't look like a threat. Young. Unsure. But the energy told a different story. His orders had been clear: confirm and eliminate. Kael clenched his jaw. "She's just a girl..." His rune-stone pulsed in his cloak pocket-his commander demanding a report. He didn't answer. Not yet. The Seal wasn't meant to break this soon. If she was awakening now, something had triggered it. He slid the scope back into his belt and vanished silently into the trees. --- Liora stood on the outskirts of the forest, the cool morning air stinging her cheeks. She hadn't told Dalen where she was going-she just needed to breathe. Her hand burned faintly again, pulling her forward. She paused at the clearing where the arch had appeared the night before, but there was nothing-just moss and old stones, silent in the fog. "Looking for something?" a voice asked behind her. She spun. A young man stood several feet away-tall, cloaked, with dark hair and eyes like molten silver. "Who are you?" she demanded, her hand instinctively flexing. He didn't answer. "You're not from Eldranth." "No. And neither are you, not really." Her stomach tightened. "You have the mark," he said, stepping forward. "You don't know what it means yet, do you?" "Who sent you?" she asked, backing away. He stopped. "I'm not here to hurt you." "Then why are you armed?" He gave a half-shrug and revealed the runed blade strapped to his side. "Because not everyone who wears the mark is good." "You're a Warden." His eyes narrowed. "You know of us?" "Dalen told me... last night." They stood in silence, the air humming between them. "I've spent my life hunting the marked," Kael said. "But you... you weren't supposed to exist." "Why haven't you tried to kill me then?" she asked, her voice cracking. Kael looked away. "Because I think you might be the only one who can stop what's coming." --- Back at the cottage, Dalen opened the door in disbelief when he saw who stood beside Liora. "A Warden?" he hissed. "You brought one here?" "He followed me," Liora said. "He didn't attack." Kael held up the pendant beneath his cloak-the sigil of the Warden Circle. Dalen's face turned pale. "If you're here, others won't be far behind." Kael stepped in, glancing around the room, noting the spell wards and the old apothecary tomes. "She activated an arch," he said. "It sent out a surge of Flameborn energy. It lit up every detection rune from here to the capital." "What does that mean?" Liora asked. "It means the Veil has begun to thin," Dalen replied grimly. "That arch wasn't just a relic-it was a gate. And you, Liora... you just unlocked it." Kael folded his arms. "We have little time. Others will come. And they won't care if you're ready or not." "So what do we do?" Dalen turned to Liora. "You start training. Tonight." --- That night, as the moon climbed over the mountains, Liora stood in the clearing again, Kael by her side. He tossed her a weighted staff. "Let's see what you can do." "I've never held one before," she said. "Good. That means you'll be less arrogant." They sparred until her arms ached and her legs trembled. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't cruel either. Every time she fell, he offered her a hand. Every time she missed, he corrected her form. When she finally collapsed in the grass, gasping, Kael sat beside her. "You've got fire," he said. "But it's undisciplined." "I've never had to fight before." "You will." She stared at the stars overhead, her chest rising and falling. "You really think something's coming?" Kael didn't answer right away. "I know it is." And somewhere, deep beneath the arch hidden in the woods, something ancient stirred. Awakened by flame.