THE HIDDEN FLAME OF LUTHERCHRIS

CHAPTER 7: Ashes of the Past

Smoke still drifted above the blackened clearing.

The forest smelled of scorched bark and rain, a haunting silence hanging in the air. Collins stood trembling, staring at his hands — the faint glow fading from his skin like dying embers.

He couldn’t feel his legs. His mind spun with everything that had happened.

The Shadowborn. The Hunters. The power that had erupted from him like a living fire.

He dropped to his knees, the earth beneath him warm from the lingering heat. “What… what did I just do?”

The silver-haired Hunter approached slowly, lowering his sword. His tone was cautious, not angry. “You survived your first awakening. Few ever do.”

Collins looked up, exhausted. “You said… my father chose the Flame. What did you mean?”

The Hunter hesitated, exchanging a quick glance with the woman beside him. “This isn’t the place to talk,” he said finally. “More of those things will come once they sense the Ember Key’s energy.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Collins snapped, staggering to his feet. “You hunted me!”

The woman sighed. “And you nearly burned down half the forest. You think you’ll last the night without us?”

Collins didn’t answer. His chest ached with heat. He could still hear whispers from the Ember Key — faint, murmuring voices calling his name from deep inside the shard.

> “The path lies beyond the ashes… follow the light of Veylar…”

He turned the shard over in his hand. It was dim now, almost asleep, but the warmth was still there — guiding him.

“I have to go to Veylar,” he said quietly.

The Hunters exchanged uneasy looks.

The silver-haired one frowned. “Who told you that?”

Collins hesitated. “My father.”

---

They camped by the river that night — not as allies, but as uneasy travelers bound by danger. Collins sat apart from the others, staring into the fire. The reflection of the flames danced in his eyes, twisting like the power inside him.

The Hunter’s name, he’d learned, was Kael Veyric, once a high captain in the Council of Veylar. The woman was Seris Vale, a Shadow Seeker — trained to track creatures born from dark magic.

They spoke in low voices across the camp, thinking Collins couldn’t hear them.

But the whispers reached him anyway.

> “He’s stronger than his father was at this age,” Seris murmured. “If the Council learns of this, they’ll—”

> “They won’t,” Kael cut in. “We’ll take him to Veylar first. If the Shadowborn found him this easily, the Ember has already marked him.”

> “And if he loses control again?”

> “Then I’ll do what his father asked me to do.”

Collins’s heart froze at that. He looked up sharply.

“What did you just say?”

Kael met his gaze silently, the flickering firelight carving shadows across his face. “Your father left me a promise,” he said at last. “If the Flame ever awakened in you… and it began to consume you… I was to end it.”

The fire popped loudly, scattering sparks into the air.

Collins rose slowly, fury and fear mixing in his chest. “You mean kill me?”

Kael didn’t flinch. “If it comes to that.”

“Why would he tell you that? He wouldn’t—”

“He would,” Kael said, voice hard now. “Because he knew what the Flame really is.”

Collins stared at him, his breath coming in uneven bursts. “Then tell me.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. For a long moment, the only sound was the rush of the river. Finally, he said softly, “The Flame isn’t magic, Collins. It’s a fragment of an ancient spirit — one that once tried to remake the world in fire. Your father sealed it away. But when he did, part of it fused with his bloodline.”

The world tilted. Collins took a step back, gripping the shard so tightly it cut into his palm. “You’re saying… the thing inside me isn’t even mine?”

Kael’s gaze softened. “It’s part of you now. Whether you want it or not.”

---

Collins turned away, staring into the river’s reflection. For a moment, he saw his face ripple in the water — but it wasn’t his own. The reflection’s eyes burned gold, and its lips moved on their own.

> “You cannot run from what you are.”

He stumbled back, gasping. The reflection vanished as the water stilled again.

Seris stood, drawing her blade. “What happened?”

Collins shook his head, his voice trembling. “It spoke to me…”

Kael frowned. “The Flame?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s awake.”

Before either of them could speak, the wind shifted. The forest’s usual night sounds fell silent. Then came the faintest sound — a whisper, just above the water.

> “He knows…”

Kael drew his sword instantly. Seris’s eyes darted to the shadows. The air thickened — not with heat this time, but with cold. The kind that crept into your bones.

Shapes began to move along the treeline — faint, glowing outlines, like ash spirits flickering in the dark.

Collins’s pulse spiked. “What are those?”

Kael’s voice dropped low. “Remnants. Souls burned by the first Flame. They’re drawn to you.”

The first one lunged, its form like a burning silhouette. Seris met it mid-air, her blade slicing through its chest. The creature burst into sparks — but for every one that fell, two more appeared.

Kael shouted, “Collins! Contain the power — don’t let it call them!”

“I’m trying!” Collins yelled, holding his arm as the mark blazed again. The fire surged uncontrollably, spinning around him in violent circles. The more he fought it, the more it spread.

The whispers grew louder. “Embrace it… free us… burn it all…”

“No!” he screamed, dropping to his knees.

And then — a blinding flash.

The river exploded upward, waves of fire and water colliding in a storm of color. The spirits shrieked, twisting and fading into the night. When the light faded, the forest was silent once more.

Collins gasped for breath, the glow fading from his skin.

Seris lowered her weapon slowly. “That wasn’t a boy’s power,” she murmured. “That was a god’s.”

Kael looked at Collins, eyes full of sorrow. “And that’s why we can’t turn back.”

---

The next morning, as the mist cleared from the riverbank, Collins found something half-buried in the ash — a piece of charred metal shaped like a crest.

His family’s crest.

Etched into it were four words, faint but still readable:

> “Seek the Tower of Veylar.”

He turned it over in his hand, the firelight catching on its edge. For the first time since awakening the Flame, he felt something beyond fear — purpose.

He looked toward the horizon, where the great mountains of Veylar rose like distant giants beneath the morning sun.

> “I’ll find the truth,” he whispered. “No matter what it costs.”