Ember Born

Kael woke up gasping for air.

He sat up fast on his thin straw mattress. His chest heaved up and down like he had just run a marathon. Sweating. He was completely soaked in sweat.

His eyes darted around the small, dim loft. It was just his room. The familiar wooden beams of the roof. The dusty floorboards. The simple wooden chest in the corner.

He was safe. He was home.

So why did his lungs feel like they were filled with smoke?

Kael pressed a hand against his chest, trying to slow his hammering heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. It sounded so loud in the quiet night.

He had been dreaming. He knew that much.

In the dream, there was fire. High, roaring walls of bright orange flame. A massive hall made of black stone, glowing red from the heat. And at the center of it all… a throne. A giant throne made of solid gold, wrapped in twisting flames.

Every single night, it was the same thing. He would stand before that burning throne.

Every single night, he felt the exact same thing: a heavy, crushing weight on top of his head. It felt like a crown. A crown made of lead and iron. A crown he had never seen, but one that felt terribly familiar.

Kael rubbed his face with both hands, shaking his head.

"Forget it," he whispered to himself. His voice sounded cracked and dry. "It's just a dream. Only a dream."

He tried to remember the details. Who was standing near the fire? Was someone shouting? What was written on the black stone walls?

He reached into his mind to grab the memories, but they slipped away like sand through his fingers. The moment he tried to focus on the dream, it faded. The faces vanished. The voices went silent.

Only two things remained behind: the memory of the burning throne room, and that crushing weight on his head.

Kael let out a long breath and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His feet hit the cold wood of the floor. He stood up slowly, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

He walked over to the small, square window at the edge of his loft.

The village of Oakhaven was completely dead at night. No lights burned in the small stone houses. The dirt paths were empty. The cold night air blew gently through the open window, cooling the sweat on Kael's neck. It felt good. It helped push the phantom heat of the fire away.

Kael leaned his forearms against the wooden window sill. He looked out across the empty village square.

In the center of the square stood the old stone fountain. Dry and cracked, it hadn't held water in ten years. Beyond the fountain was the village square’s outer wall, where the dark trees of the forest began.

Everything was quiet. Everything was peaceful.

Until Kael saw the shadow.

Kael froze. His eyes locked onto the far side of the square, right near the edge of the dark forest.

Standing under the tall wooden post of a broken street lantern was a figure.

The person was completely covered in a long, pitch-black cloak. A deep hood was pulled low over their face, casting their entire head in deep shadow. They weren't moving. They weren't walking.

They were standing perfectly still.

And they were staring straight up at Kael's loft window.

A cold shiver ran right down Kael's spine. The skin on his arms turned to goosebumps.

Who is that? Kael thought, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. Why are they standing there in the middle of the night?

He shrank back slightly into the darkness of his room, trying not to be seen. But deep down, Kael knew it was too late.

The hooded stranger didn't flinch. They didn't look away.

Slowly, very slowly, the stranger raised a single hand from beneath the dark cloak.

They pointed one pale finger directly at Kael.

Kael's breath hitched in his throat. His heart gave a hard, violent thump against his ribs.

Then, the stranger spoke. They didn't shout. They didn't even raise their voice. But somehow, across the wide, empty square, through the silent night air, the voice carried straight into Kael's ears as if the stranger was standing right next to him.

"I found you, little king."

Kael stumbled backward, hitting the side of his wooden bed frame.

Little king?

What did that mean? Who was this person?

Kael grabbed the edge of the window frame and forced himself to look back out.

The

square was empty.

The stranger was gone.