The next day came with rain.
The skies over Ravenhart Academy were gray, and soft thunder rolled across the hills.
But Leon didn't care. He had barely slept.
His mind was filled with questions.
What was that Wraith?Why did it call him "the flame"?And… what was this power inside him?
He stood in the forest behind the academy. Wet leaves clung to his boots.
His arm still ached from the Wraith's scratch, but he was ready.
Astha stood across from him, her cloak soaked, a book in her hand.
"Today," she said, "we train."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
She nodded. "The headmaster won't help you. The nobles want you gone. But I saw your magic. It's dangerous—and that means it matters. If you want to stay alive, you need control."
Leon smiled. "Fine. Where do we start?"
🔥 Lesson One: Control
Astha drew a symbol in the air—three circles overlapping. It glowed briefly, then faded.
"That's a Stabilizer Sigil," she explained. "Your magic is like wild fire. This symbol helps direct the energy."
Leon tried to copy it.
His first attempt looked more like a crooked pretzel. Astha laughed softly for the first time.
"Terrible," she said.
Leon grinned. "Thanks for the support."
"Try again. Slower."
It took him six tries—but on the seventh, the symbol glowed.
A warm pulse ran through his arm. Not a burst. Not an explosion.
But controlled heat.
"I did it," Leon whispered.
Astha stepped closer. "You've got potential, Leon. But magic alone isn't enough. You need to be ready when they come again."
Leon looked up. "The Wraiths?"
She nodded. "They were summoned. That means someone sent them. Someone who knows what you are."
Leon's voice dropped. "Then I need to find out who."
🌑 That Night...
Back in his room, Leon unwrapped the cloth around his shoulder wound.
The scratch from the Wraith hadn't healed normally.
Around the cut, his skin glowed faintly—like embers under ash.
Suddenly, pain shot through his body. He gripped the desk.
Flashes burned behind his eyes:
A mountain covered in black fire.A woman with golden eyes, crying.A voice whispering his name—not in fear, but in warning.
"Leon… awaken…"
He gasped and fell to the floor, shaking.
When it stopped, he was sweating and cold. He looked at his hand.
That strange mark—the fire symbol—glowed again.
"What am I?" he whispered.
He didn't know the answer.
But someone did.
And he was going to find them.
🕯 In the Library...
Far away, Astha flipped through an ancient book by candlelight. She paused at a page with faded ink and a strange drawing.
A fire mark. The same one she had seen on Leon's hand.
Under it were five words:
The Last Flameblood Shall Rise.
She touched the words gently.
"Leon… you're not just rare."
"You're… the last."