Kael ran through the night, fire flickering beneath his skin, tears blurring his vision. Behind him, the ruins of his home smoldered—the echoes of battle still ringing in his ears. His mother's voice echoed in his mind: Run.
He didn't know how far he ran, or how long. His legs burned, his lungs ached, and still he pushed forward, driven by instinct and desperation. The sky above remained starless, as if even the heavens were hiding.
At last, just before dawn, he collapsed near the edge of the southern ravines. The cold ground embraced him, and for a moment, he let the darkness take him.
He woke to the sound of footsteps.
A cloaked figure knelt beside him, pressing two fingers to his neck. "Still breathing," the man muttered. His voice was gravel and smoke.
Kael stirred, his throat dry. "My mother… said… find Ravon."
The man tilted his head. "You're lucky I know that name."
The stranger took Kael to a small outpost hidden in the forest—a place where travelers rarely stopped. There, Kael rested, his body recovering slowly. The locals didn't ask questions. Perhaps they recognized the fire in his blood. Perhaps they were afraid.
Days passed.
At night, Kael would lie awake staring at the ceiling beams, replaying the moment his powers erupted—the pain in Aryan's face, the blast that had knocked Urshifu down, the look in his mother's eyes as she told him to run. Could I have saved her? he kept asking himself. The guilt clung to him, heavier than exhaustion.
One night, during a brief rainstorm, Kael stepped outside the outpost and stared up at the clouds. The rain sizzled against his skin, steam rising from his shoulders. Even the sky seemed to battle with him. "Why am I like this?" he whispered. The wind offered no answers.
When Kael could finally stand, the stranger handed him a satchel, some dried food, and pointed north. "Ashen Peaks. Ravon's somewhere past the old lava flow. Don't die getting there."
Kael nodded, quieter than before. "Thank you."
The journey was long and lonely. The forests were silent, the trees scorched and twisted by ancient fires. Once, he crossed paths with a shadow wolf, its eyes glowing amber. It bared its teeth, but as flames flickered from Kael's shoulders without warning, the beast retreated into the undergrowth.
He often spoke aloud, even though no one was there to listen. "Why me?" he asked the wind. "Why fire and water?" He remembered his mother's words about his heritage—descendant of the Fire Guardian and the Water Guardian. "Then why can't I control either?"
At one point, he fell into a ravine while trying to scale a rocky path. His palms bled, scraped by stone, but he kept climbing. A part of him whispered that pain was just part of the price. "If you want control, earn it," he growled through gritted teeth.
By the fifth day, the skies grew darker, and the ground turned black and brittle. The Ashen Peaks towered before him, carved in smoke and memory. Rivers of cooled lava wound like veins down the mountainside. The wind there tasted of ash.
There, in a deep ravine, stood a weathered stone dwelling—half-temple, half-tomb. Vines crept along its edges like veins. The air shimmered with heat, and even the rocks seemed to radiate a warning.
Kael raised a trembling hand and knocked.
The door creaked open.
A man stood within, framed by firelight. He had silver hair, robes scorched from battles long past, and eyes like cooling embers. He looked Kael over, not with kindness, but with understanding.
"You're Embroar's line," he said. "But there's more. Water flows in your fire."
Kael blinked. "How do you know that?"
Ravon motioned him inside. "I knew your father. He trained with me once, before he chose to walk his own path. Brilliant with fire, but unstable. The double orb nearly destroyed him."
Kael's breath caught. "You trained him?"
"He came here to find balance. He found power… and paid the price." Ravon's voice softened. "He loved your mother deeply. She was a water-binder, descendant of the Water Guardian. Calm where he was fire. They were opposites—but complete."
Kael sat down slowly. "Why didn't he stay?"
"He believed he could control it on his own. He left before the training was complete. I warned him Khaos would seek him… and now, here you are."
He tossed a stone into the hearth. Fire erupted.
"Control it."
Kael stepped forward, lifting his hand. The fire responded, flaring with sudden fury. Then it snapped, biting back at him. He staggered, clutching his burned palm.
Ravon didn't move. "You don't control fire with fear. You guide it with intent. Fire listens to your heart. Yours is confused."
Kael lowered his hand. "Then teach me to focus it."
Ravon finally looked at him fully. "There is strength in you, but it is buried beneath doubt. We begin at dawn. And be warned—the fire will test you before it ever obeys."
Far across the land, deep within a cathedral of black crystal, Khaos stood before a ring of hollowed statues—the remnants of once-great Guardians. His shadow stretched unnaturally far, writhing like a serpent.
Urshifu limped in, bruised and seething.
"You let him escape," Khaos said without turning.
"He's stronger than he looks. His fire—it's wild."
Khaos placed a gauntleted hand on a pulsing black orb. The surface rippled like liquid shadow. "Wild things burn themselves out. But this one... might just light the way."
Urshifu clenched his fists, fury boiling beneath his skin. "He caught me off guard," he muttered. "Next time, I'll crush him."
Khaos simply laughed. "Next time… you'll kneel before him."