The Weight of Ash
Author: Diamond
last update2025-10-26 06:01:08

Kael didn’t go to morning drills.

He couldn’t.

His body might have obeyed if his mind weren’t still tangled in the smoke of that dream — in her voice.

Because they were coming for you.

The words had burned deeper than any flame.

He’d tried to shake them off, splash cold water on his face, convince himself it was only his imagination. But every time he blinked, he saw the faint outline of those runes beneath his skin, still pulsing like they remembered something he didn’t.

By the time the academy bell rang, Kael was already standing outside Riven’s door.

The hall was quiet. Too quiet. He hesitated, hand hovering near the wood. Riven didn’t like unannounced visits. The man had a way of appearing both patient and dangerous, like a storm waiting behind still clouds.

But Kael couldn’t wait anymore.

He knocked once.

“Enter,” came the calm voice from within.

Kael stepped inside. Riven sat near the window, a book open on his lap. The morning light cut across his sharp features, catching faint traces of silver in his hair. For a long moment, he didn’t look up — as if he already knew why Kael had come.

“You’re early,” Riven said softly. “You missed drills.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Kael’s voice was rough, uneven. “About last night.”

Riven’s eyes lifted, cool and unreadable. “Last night?”

Kael swallowed hard. “I saw… her. My mother. I think.”

He forced the words out, afraid they’d dissolve if he hesitated. “It wasn’t a normal dream. It felt real. I could feel the heat, smell the fire. And she—” His voice broke slightly. “She said they were coming for me.”

Something flickered behind Riven’s calm — not shock, not quite fear, but something older. He set the book aside with slow precision.

“Describe what you saw.”

Kael told him everything — the temple, the collapsing walls, the fire that didn’t burn, the figure of light and shadow. Every detail clawed its way out of him until the room itself seemed to thicken with silence.

When he finished, Riven was still. His gaze drifted toward the window, where sunlight painted faint lines across the floor.

“So,” he said finally, “it’s begun.”

Kael frowned. “What has?”

Riven stood, his robes whispering softly as he turned to face him. “Dreams are not always just dreams, Kael. Some are echoes. Shadows left behind by power too great to fade.”

“Echoes of what?”

“Of what you are,” Riven said quietly. “And what your parents were.”

Kael’s breath caught. “You knew them.”

Riven didn’t deny it. He simply studied him, the faintest trace of regret darkening his features. “I knew of them. Enough to understand why the clans wanted them erased.”

“The clans…” Kael’s hands trembled. “You mean one of them attacked the temple?”

“Not one,” Riven said. “All of them.”

Kael’s knees went weak. He gripped the edge of the desk for balance. “Why? What could they possibly want from us?”

Riven hesitated. “Because your father broke something they could not control. He was meant to guard the flame, not wield it. The moment he refused their order to hand it over, they marked your family as traitors.”

Kael stared at him, the world tilting slightly. “The flame… you mean Shadowfire.”

Riven’s gaze hardened. “Say that name carefully.”

“Why?” Kael demanded. “What are you not telling me?”

“Because that name isn’t just a power,” Riven said sharply, his calm voice turning to iron. “It’s a lineage. A curse. The moment it’s spoken, it listens.”

Kael’s heart pounded. “You’re saying it’s alive?”

Riven didn’t answer — and that silence was answer enough.

Kael stepped back, his mind spinning. The memory of the runes flaring under his skin burned brighter now. “So what does it want from me?”

“The same thing it wanted from your father,” Riven said. “To be whole again.”

The words hung in the air like thunder waiting to break.

Kael’s throat tightened. “And if I don’t let it?”

Riven looked at him for a long time, then sighed. “You already have.”

Kael froze. The world went still — even the sound of the wind outside seemed to vanish.

Riven’s eyes softened, but the weight of his gaze was unbearable.

“Every time you reach for it,” he said, “every spark you hold back, every moment you try to control it — it learns you. And when the time comes, it will decide whether you’re strong enough to carry its will.”

Kael could barely breathe. “You’re telling me it’s judging me?”

Riven smiled faintly, though it wasn’t amusement in his eyes — it was pity. “Everything that holds power does.”

The silence stretched. Kael wanted to speak, to ask more, but his throat was tight with fear and anger both.

Finally, he whispered, “What did my mother mean? When she said they were coming for me?”

Riven’s expression darkened, his hands clasping behind his back. “It means the past is no longer sleeping. Whatever kept them quiet all these years is breaking.”

Kael’s chest ached. “Then I have to find out the truth. I can’t just stay here pretending everything’s fine.”

Riven turned back to him, his gaze sharp again. “Then be ready. The truth isn’t waiting in books or duels. It’s buried in the old places — the ones sealed for a reason.”

“Where?” Kael asked.

Riven’s eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light. “The first gate.”

“The… what?”

But Riven only shook his head. “You’ll know it when it calls to you.”

He moved past Kael toward the door, pausing briefly. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“And when it does, don’t go alone.”

Then he was gone — leaving Kael standing there, the echo of his words tangled with the memory of his mother’s fading voice.

Because they were coming for you.

Kael sank into the nearest chair, staring at his hands. The faint marks beneath his skin were glowing again, faint but steady. He pressed his palms together as if he could hide the light, but it pulsed through his fingers, alive and restless.

He didn’t know if it was fear or resolve building in his chest. Maybe both. But one thing was clear — Riven knew more than he was saying. And if the clans had killed his parents once to stop this power, they would come again.

Only this time, Kael wouldn’t be the one running.

Outside, the wind shifted — carrying the sound of distant thunder.

A storm was coming.

And in the stillness before it broke, Shadowfire stirred.

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