The night bled with fire.Smoke clawed at the heavens as the ancient temple cracked and groaned under the weight of its own flames. Roof tiles rained down in shards, scattering sparks across the city below. People screamed in the distance, their cries echoing through narrow alleys as the sky itself seemed to tremble.But atop the highest roof of the burning temple, two figures did not run.“Ardyn… it’s already too late.”The woman’s voice broke as she pressed a trembling hand to her chest. In her grasp, a pendant glimmered faintly through the smoke—its chain broken, its surface cracked, but within it pulsed a strange light, alive and restless, as though it had a will of its own.Her husband stood beside her, staggering on unsteady legs. His body was broken, his robes soaked crimson with blood that no longer seemed able to clot. Any mortal man would have fallen hours ago, but his eyes… his eyes still burned. Not with hope, but with defiance.“They’ll never have him,” he rasped, forcing

Kael’s scream was swallowed by the night.The alley glowed with unnatural fire, black and twisting, eating away at lantern light and shadows alike. The three attackers writhed on the ground, their faces pale with terror as the flames licked toward them, yet the fire gave no heat, no smoke. It devoured only light and breath, leaving the cobblestones cracked and cold.Kael clutched at his chest, the sigil searing against his skin. His heart thundered in his ears, each beat like a hammer on stone.What… what is this?The attackers scrambled away, stumbling into the dark, their voices cracking with panic.“Monster!” one shouted.“He’s cursed!” another screamed.Their footsteps faded, leaving only Kael and the black fire that coiled around his trembling body like a living thing.He staggered, knees buckling. His hands shook as he stared at the flames dancing across his fingertips. They didn’t burn him. They felt… cold. Like the emptiness between stars.This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

The sun rose over Graypeak City like a tired lantern, its pale light smothered by haze. Kael felt as if the world mocked him with that weary glow—half-alive, just like he was after last night.His arms still trembled from the flames, his chest tight with a soreness that seemed to burrow into his bones. He could barely lift the wooden pail of water by the shrine steps, yet the memory of Shadowfire still clung to him, whispering like embers beneath his skin.You failed.The thought gnawed at him.But another voice—the stranger’s voice—echoed louder. “Good. Because now you know what failure feels like.”Kael hated it. Hated how those words refused to leave him.The cloaked man—his so-called “watcher”—was waiting in the courtyard again. He stood unmoving, staff planted firmly in the cracked stone, as if the night itself had kept him rooted there.“You look half-dead,” the man said, not unkindly.“I feel worse,” Kael muttered.“Good. Pain teaches faster than comfort. If you wish for rest,

The morning sunlight spilled over the academy grounds, but for Kael Ardyn, it felt more like a spotlight than warmth. Every footstep across the cobblestone paths echoed his own uncertainty, each whisper from passing students like a ghost tugging at his confidence. He had survived the announcement of his “failure,” survived the snickers and derision, yet a gnawing sense of inadequacy clung to him.The dormitories rose before him—tall, angular structures carved from the same shimmering stone as the academy towers, their windows pulsing faintly with protective wards. Inside, the air smelled of polished wood, herbs, and the faint tang of elemental energy. Kael’s bag was light, carrying nothing but essentials and the broken pendant tucked deep in his pocket. He hadn’t dared bring the sword fragment; not yet. Not until he understood the danger—and his own power.The dorm room was modest, with two beds, a small desk, and a single window that looked out over the training grounds. Another boy,

The first rays of dawn cut through the mist that clung stubbornly to the academy grounds. Kael sat on the edge of the training courtyard, staring at the pendant in his hand. Its broken edges were warm against his skin, and a faint hum seemed to echo from it—almost alive, almost sentient.He hadn’t slept. Not really. His mind had been racing all night with images of the Shadowfire, the cloaked figure, and the consequences if anyone discovered what he could do. Fear sat heavy in his chest, but beneath it was a spark of something unfamiliar: hope.Kael wasn’t just the failure everyone had mocked. He had power—power that no one understood. And with it, maybe he could uncover the truth about his parents.“Kael Ardyn!”The shout startled him, and he spun around to see Master Riven, one of the academy’s senior instructors, striding toward him. His robes whipped behind him, and his eyes were sharp as flint.“You’re late for morning training,” Riven said, voice like gravel. “And yet, here you