It had been weeks since they labeled me a failure.
Ever since the day my sister ignited her flame in front of the elders, receiving cheers while I lingered behind her like a mere shadow. I didn't shed a tear. Crying would mean I accepted that I had lost something. Instead, I forced a smile. I even joined in the applause.
It was still frustrating to me an entire emperor was struggling with a copy and paste version of mana.
But when night descended and the house fell silent, I found myself staring at my own hands until dawn broke. What was wrong with me?
Why didn't I burn like they did? What was I lacking?
The courtyard was soaked with morning dew, and a delicate mist drifted in from the cliffs, weaving its way between the stones. I stood there, barefoot and blindfolded, just as the ritual demanded.
The Invocation Ceremony.
Every child of the Kureha, upon reaching the age of five, was to take the first of three sacred steps into their new light in life. But if you did not master their ancient powers your were regarded as the worthless one of the family.
You were nothing.
I had waited, studied, and watched my sister practice tirelessly.
She never noticed how her fingers quivered when she pushed herself too hard or how the fire danced in response to her emotions.
But I did. Because that was all I had.
Observation.
Father stood next to me, silent as a statue, his face chiseled from stone.
Mother watched from the veranda, her gaze devoid of warmth.
The elder stepped forward, chanting the rite. He traced a circle of fire on the stones, its edge flickering softly.
"Begin."
I stepped into the ring.
The elder stepped forward, chanting the rite. He drew a circle of fire on the stones, its ed
"Inhale," the elder instructed.
I breathed in the air thick with smoke, heavy with expectation.
"Now awaken. Call your flame. Let it speak."
I reached deep inside. Past the quiet. Past the doubts. Trying to kill all distractions of the world and only focus on one thing and one thing only. Then I heard my younger sister Shuuno screaming at the back cheering me on.
I remembered her words.
"Nii-chan's flame is just hiding. It'll be huge. Sky-big!"
I reached harder. Deeper. Something stirred.
The elder blinked. "...Focus."
My breath hitched. My fingertips tingled.
Then
Nothing. The circle sputtered and went out. The silence was louder than any insult. I removed the blindfold myself. No one rushed forward. No words of comfort. Mother looked away. Father gave a short nod. Not of approval.
Of acknowledgment.
That I existed.
That was all.
Later that night, I was scrubbing the soot from the stones.
It was tradition. If you failed to awaken your flame, you cleaned the arena. The clan believed humility might purify your soul.
I didn't feel impure.
Just empty.
The stones were cold under my knees. My fingers blackened by ash. I scrubbed until the pads of my hands bled.
Shuuno came to me after midnight. She brought a little cloth pouch. Burn cream. But saw something in me that she has never saw I was screaming my lungs out because of how worthless and pathetic I am. It brought back painful memories of my past life while in training suffering the exact fate but I was able to use mana only after six months of struggle here it has been five long years and still nothing.
"Nii-Chan.
I heard her tiny voice and quickly acted like I was cleaning hoping she did not see me in that state.
"Hey Shuuno what's wrong?
She approached me her face was filled with sadness after seeing me. She wanted to help but knew she could not do anything.
Shuuno was named the prodigy of the Kureha clan possibly even believing she is the descendent of the founding ancestor and the strongest Kureha to ever exist Arihara Kureha.
As for me I was just the supporting role in her growth but the village elders want to separate us because she has potential while I don't.
Shuuno denied this but I agreed if it was for her growth then I will step out of her life.
"You shouldn't have to clean all this. You're not dirt."
I didn't respond.
She sat beside me. Tiny knees tucked into her chest.
"I think it's stupid," she mumbled. "The way they look at you. Like you're broken."
I said nothing. I couldn't.
"You know what I saw today? When you stepped into the ring, the fire... it didn't move away."
I looked at her.
"It always moves when the others try. Like it's testing them. But yours didn't. It... waited. Like it knew you."
I blinked.
"Maybe your flame isn't sleeping. Maybe it's waiting."
She offered me her hand. I took it. For once, her hand didn't feel smaller than mine.
Days passed.
I trained alone. Meditated in the woods. Punched trees until bark tore skin. Held my breath under the waterfall until my vision blurred. I read. Every scroll in the house library. Even the forbidden ones. Especially those.
I learned about the Shōen the primordial fire gate believed to awaken cursed flames.
I began to draw it. Over and over. Chalk, dirt, blood. I etched it onto stones. Onto my own skin.
Nothing.
Until the night it rained.
The clan was asleep. I sat alone in the forest clearing. I drew the final stroke of the glyph. Thunder cracked.
I whispered the incantation I'd memorized from a half-burned scroll:
"Let that which sleeps beneath bone and breath rise from silence."
Then I waited. Nothing happened. I laughed. A small, broken thing. I punched the ground. Hard. Again. And again. Tears mixed with rain.
"Why... won't you... wake up?!"
The glyph began to glow. Faint. Then stronger. The rain sizzled as it hit the ground. I stumbled back. From the center of the glyph, a single black flame rose. Thin. Quiet. Like a whisper.
And then—
it exploded.
Pain. Not on my skin. In my mind. My chest. I screamed. But no sound came. The flame wrapped around me, not burning me, but... invading me. Showing me.
A battlefield.
A throne.
A betrayal.
And that smile.
I awoke in my bed.
My hands... were stained black. Ash? Or something else? I didn't know. But I felt it now. I wasn't empty. I was full. Of silence. Of rage. Of flame. And it wasn't sleeping anymore.