Soaring through the midnight sky, Kayle sliced through the cold wind, the stars above glittering like distant lanterns. Below him, an endless sea of dense, dark forest stretched in every direction. It was quiet, save for the sound of rustling leaves far beneath him—and the voice in his head.
Only he, the sky, and that mysterious voice.
Kayle's sharp eyes scanned the treetops as he flew, searching for a place to land. After a few minutes, he spotted a small clearing—an open patch of land surrounded by towering trees. It looked safe enough.
"This will do," Kayle murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.
As he touched the ground, the dirt soft beneath his boots, he exhaled deeply and shouted into the empty air, "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my brain?!"
His emerald eyes blazed with anger and confusion.
"Yo, yo! Chill, little one," the voice replied, calm and playful. "I don't mean any harm. In fact, I'm the flame bound to you."
"Flame bound to me?" Kayle scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. I've never heard of a flame bound that can talk. Just tell me who you really are."
"If you don't believe me, then how do you think you flew just now?" the voice reasoned gently. "And who do you think saved you from those soldiers earlier? Remember the black flames? That was me trying to protect you."
Kayle narrowed his eyes. He did remember the flames. Black, wild, powerful. They had burst forth when he was cornered—and then he was suddenly free. He thought it was instinct, maybe luck.
But a voice?
"If you really are a flame bound… then what's your name?" he asked cautiously.
"I am the Black Primordial Flame—Arthur. You may have heard of me in old legends."
Kayle froze. That name stirred something in his memory. Myths whispered among wandering bards. Tales of a conscious flame older than the elements themselves.
Before he could ask more, Arthur's tone turned sharp.
"Something's coming. Northeast. Prepare yourself."
Kayle spun toward the sound. Crashing trees. Heavy footsteps. A massive figure burst through the treeline—a hulking Goblin Emperor, eyes glowing like embers.
"What in the hell is that?" Kayle gasped, a mix of fear and awe in his voice.
"A Goblin Emperor," Arthur said calmly. "No time to waste. Say the words: Be gone."
Kayle hesitated, then shouted, "Be gone!"
Black fire erupted from beneath the goblin's feet, spiraling upward like a cyclone. In seconds, the creature disintegrated into ash.
Kayle's jaw dropped.
"That… was awesome!" he grinned, stunned. "It just died from two words?"
"One of the basic spells," Arthur replied. "The best part? When you kill a creature, you absorb its internal flame. It fuels your own."
Before Kayle could respond, the forest rustled again.
This time, it wasn't a monster.
A group of people emerged—armed but not hostile. Leading them was a tall man with sharp eyes and dark hair tied back, dressed in practical armor with a long cloak.
"Single-handedly taking down a Goblin Emperor," the man said, clapping slowly. "Not something you see every day."
Kayle tensed, eyes narrowing. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"We're the Rebels," the man said. "We've been hunting that monster for weeks. Looks like you beat us to it."
Arthur's voice echoed in Kayle's mind. They're harmless. You can trust them.
Still wary, Kayle lowered his guard slightly. "Then get to the point. What do you want?"
The man stepped closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "We saw you kill that goblin. There's no doubt… you're the Apostle of the Primordial Flame. Let me officially invite you to our party."
He extended his hand.
Kayle hesitated. Arthur?
Accept, the flame whispered. But make sure he keeps your identity secret.
Kayle nodded, leaned in, and whispered back, "Only if you hide who I really am."
The man smiled. "Of course."
They shook hands.
"Welcome, Kayle. I'm Ilham, leader of the rebels."
"Nice to meet you," Kayle said. "I'm Kayle Veyron."
Ilham turned to his men. "This man is one of us now. Treat him like family!"
"Yayayayaaa!" the group cheered, clapping and whooping in celebration.
Kayle smiled awkwardly as he introduced himself to the group. The mood was light, but he couldn't help feeling something big was ahead.
After the introductions, Ilham led Kayle to a carriage at the edge of the clearing.
As they rode, Ilham asked, "What were you doing alone in a forest like this? Something happen?"
Kayle looked out the window, his smile fading. "Yes… something did. The king found out about me—about what I could do. He invited me to his court as a 'guest,' but that was a trap. The soldiers surrounded me and put me in chains."
He paused, his voice low.
"They tried to kill me. But I escaped. Flew out of that cursed place, and… well, that's when I found you."
Ilham clenched his fists. "They banished a boy for something he never asked for. Unbelievable."
Their conversation was cut short by a knock on the carriage door.
"We've arrived," called one of Ilham's men.
Ilham stepped out and held the door open.
Kayle followed—and gasped.
Before him lay a hidden village nestled deep in the forest. Lanterns hung from trees, casting warm light over wooden houses and stone paths. Children played near a fountain, rebels trained with swords in the distance, and smoke rose peacefully from chimneys.
"This…" Kayle whispered, stunned. "You built all of this?"
Ilham nodded. "Welcome to Emberfall. Our sanctuary. And now, your new home."
Kayle stood still, his heart pounding—not from fear, but from something else.
Hope.
For the first time in a long time, he wasn't running.
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