The silence between Kael and Serenya was thick as the ashfall overhead.
They walked side by side through the skeletal remains of an ancient wyvern, its spine curving overhead like a ribbed tunnel, bones scorched black by some battle long forgotten.
Kael glanced at Serenya.
She hadn't said a word since introducing herself. Just kept her hand on the hilt of that rune-carved blade and her eyes scanning every shadow like a predator who'd never known peace.
He didn't blame her.
She had saved his life… but that didn't mean she trusted him.
"So…" Kael tried. "Thanks. For the whole… stabbing those monsters thing."
Her gaze didn't flick to him.
"They weren't monsters. They were Hollowborn. Void-touched scavengers. Drawn to power."
Kael nodded slowly.
"Right. And… you just happened to be nearby?"
Now she looked at him.
A brief smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. It wasn't friendly. It was measured — like a wolf baring its teeth just enough to remind you it could tear your throat out.
"No. I was tracking you."
Kael stopped walking.
"…What?"
"Flares like that don't go unnoticed." She gestured to the ember glowing faintly on his chest. "A pulse like yours? That much raw, divine fire? It's the kind of thing that calls every cursed thing on the continent."
She stepped closer.
"You're a beacon. Walking, burning bait."
Kael took a step back.
"Why are you helping me then?"
She shrugged.
"I haven't decided that I am."
Before he could respond, the ember on his chest pulsed sharply. Heat flared through his ribs, and he winced.
Serenya's eyes snapped to the flame.
"It's responding to something," she murmured.
The ground rumbled faintly.
A sound — low, metallic, groaning — echoed across the valley.
Then, from beyond the wyvern skull, a construct emerged.
A massive, six-legged beast of obsidian and brass, its core glowing with corrupted fire. It moved like a hound, but its face resembled a melted drake skull, and cables trailed like tendrils from its back.
Its gaze locked onto Kael.
"Run," Serenya said, already unsheathing her sword.
Kael didn't argue.
They sprinted together, weaving through piles of rubble and broken bone, the construct crashing behind them with terrifying speed.
Serenya spun and slashed. Her blade lit with crimson runes, severing one of the machine's tendrils clean off.
It shrieked — a sound like metal tearing in reverse.
Kael ducked under a collapsed arch of dragon horn. The ember flared again, more violently.
And then — instinct.
Not thought. Not control.
Just a need.
Kael raised his hand and roared.
Flame exploded from his palm — wild, chaotic — a swirling burst of black-red fire that struck the construct in the face and melted part of its plating.
The creature stumbled.
Serenya didn't waste the opening.
She leapt, landed atop its back, and drove her blade straight through its core.
The construct convulsed once.
Then collapsed.
Steam hissed from its vents. Sparks fizzled out.
Silence.
Kael stood shaking, hand still raised.
"…What was that?" he whispered.
Serenya dropped down from the corpse.
"That was you. Not just channeling the flame — but commanding it."
"Whatever's inside you… it's waking up."
They set up camp under the broken wing of a fallen storm wyrm. The sky above was streaked with crimson twilight. The fire Kael had conjured earlier still smoldered beside them — the first flame he'd ever created on his own.
Kael sat across from Serenya, watching her sharpen her blade.
"You said I'm a beacon," he murmured. "Then why not kill me? If I'm a risk to you?"
She paused.
Then she met his gaze.
"Because I've seen what Ravon does to people like you."
Kael's brow furrowed.
"Ravon?"
She nodded.
"Ravon Draak. Wielder of the Hollow Crown. Slayer of Aurex. Corrupter of flame. He's hunting down anything that carries the old blood — or godfire."
"You shine like a flare in the dark."
"And Ravon always notices."
Kael's throat tightened.
"I don't even know who I am," he said quietly. "Why me?"
Serenya sheathed her sword.
"I don't know yet."
"But if the flame chose you…" she looked back toward the dark horizon, "…you'd better figure it out fast."
That night, Kael dreamt of fire.
Not the kind that destroys.
But the kind that remembers.
He stood in a sea of ash, and from it rose a dragon of endless wings and ember eyes.
It leaned down, pressed its snout to his forehead, and whispered:
"You are not hollow.""You are the last breath… of hope."
When Kael awoke, the ember in his chest burned brighter than ever before.