The council chamber smelled faintly of smoke and old parchment. Torches hissed along the stone walls, casting restless shadows over the long table where instructors and overseers gathered.“Ardyn,” one of the masters spat the name like it was poison. “The boy should be expelled at once. You all saw it—he nearly unleashed something unnatural.”Another voice, older, steadier, cut in. Master Kaelen, one of the more even-tempered among them. “And yet he didn’t. He restrained it. That is no small feat.”“Restrained it?!” Darius’s uncle, a high-ranking clan envoy, slammed his fist against the table. His jeweled rings clattered against the wood. “You call that restraint? Darkness flickered at his fingertips. A cursed fire, the kind whispered of in the old wars. If we let him linger, we invite ruin.”The chamber rippled with unease. Some nodded, others looked away, lips pressed tight.In the corner, Headmistress Serenya remained silent, her pale eyes unreadable. She lifted a hand at last, and

Morning came muted, wrapped in fog and whispers.The academy grounds were unusually still — no laughter, no clang of sparring blades. Just the echo of rumors drifting through the corridors like smoke.Kael walked with his hood low, the faint ache of yesterday’s chaos still humming under his skin. Every step felt heavier than the last. His name had spread across the academy overnight, carried on curious tongues and fearful stares.The boy with the black flame. The one who shouldn’t exist.He tried to ignore them. Tried to drown out the murmurs that shadowed him with every step. But they clung to him, sharp as nettles.He stopped by the outer courtyard, watching the mist curl over the training grounds. The stone still bore the faint scorch marks from his duel — Darius’s flames on one side, a darker, almost invisible mark on the other. His.The memory flashed: the flicker of Shadowfire, the gasp from the crowd, Riven’s voice afterward — calm, dangerous, inevitable.“Bury it, and it will

Kael didn’t remember falling asleep.One moment he was staring at the ceiling of his dorm, the faint glow of the moon spilling through the window, and the next—he was back in the fire.The same fire.The same screams.The same night that had carved itself into his soul.The air burned as the temple walls cracked and fell. Shadows twisted, swallowing the stars. He could smell the smoke, taste the ash on his tongue.But this time… something was different.He wasn’t the child cowering beneath the altar anymore. He stood tall, his hands blazing with black flame, and the fire didn’t hurt. It wrapped around him like an old memory, familiar and alive.“Kael.”His heart froze.That voice—soft, low, and filled with warmth that didn’t belong in this place.He turned, searching through the smoke. Shapes flickered at the edge of sight—faces, whispers—but none clear enough to grasp.“Who’s there?” he called, his voice trembling.The fire stirred. It moved, almost like it breathed. From within it,

The storm arrived by nightfall.It began as a low growl of thunder, rolling over the academy rooftops, and by the time darkness settled, rain poured in steady sheets across the stone courtyards. Lanterns flickered in the hallways. Most students had retreated indoors — training was canceled, classes postponed.But Kael couldn’t sit still.He stood by his dorm window, watching the rain streak down the glass. The conversation with Riven replayed in his mind over and over. The first gate. The way Riven had said it — quiet, deliberate, like he already knew Kael would go searching for it.He tried to ignore it, but the thought gnawed at him. Each crash of thunder only made it louder.It wasn’t just curiosity — it was something else. Something pulling at him.When the rain finally began to ease, Kael grabbed his cloak and left.The academy grounds were almost empty. Only the sound of dripping water filled the air, punctuated by the occasional crack of lightning in the distance. The torchligh

The tremor didn’t stop at one. It came again — stronger. Windows rattled. The ground beneath the academy split with faint, glowing lines, spiderwebbing across the courtyard stones. Students poured out of the dorms in panic, shouting, clutching each other as alarms blared through the air. Kael stumbled, catching Lyra before she fell. “What’s happening?” she shouted over the noise. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The same pulse that had come from the gate was now inside his chest, syncing with his heartbeat. It felt like the world itself was breathing with him — and he hated it. The academy’s wards flickered. For a brief, terrifying second, the protective barrier that shimmered above the walls went completely dark. Then it came — a sound that wasn’t thunder. A deep, echoing roar that seemed to rise from under the ground. Lyra’s hand tightened on his arm. “Kael, we need to get to Riven—” But Kael was already moving. In the council chamber, chaos reigned. Books and crystal lense