Eldrin was a city of spires and secrets.
Built on layers of stone and statute, it stood over the lowlands like a monument to pride. Its walls were marble streaked with silver. Its guardsmen were armored in steel burnished to mirror brightness. And beneath its elegant surface, suspicion boiled hotter than any flame.
The capital did not accept Awakened.
But Kairo came anyway.
He approached the gate on foot, in simple dark robes edged with flame-etched trim. No crown. No guards. Only Sera, Virella, and a boy named Niko—a young truthspeaker whose fire burned to expose lies when uttered in his presence.
The king's guards blocked their path, spears crossed.
"No flamebearers are permitted within the city," one snarled.
Kairo did not flinch. "Then tell King Alric he already has one inside. The Ash King has spies in your midst."
The guard scoffed—until Niko stepped forward, eyes ablaze gold.
"You lie," Niko whispered.
And the man paled.
The royal court was not so friendly.
Kairo stood before the high council beneath crystal chandeliers and a throne carved from Eldrin's founding tree. Nobles watched from balconies. Guards armed and armored lined every wall. King Alric, a thin-faced man in his fifties, sat rigid in his throne, fingers shaking with irritation.
"You ask for alliance," Alric said. "And I see fire and danger. Cities burned under your kind before."
"We burn because we're hunted," Kairo said. "Because your laws give us no ground to stand on."
"Laws preserve peace."
"They choke survival."
The room buzzed with whispers.
Then Kairo stepped forward—and let his flame unfurl.
Not in anger. Not in threat.
But in warmth. A low, golden fire that brought calm.
Kids in the balconies leaned in. One of the court seers cried out softly.
"This flame," Kairo said, "isn't a weapon. It's a gift. The Ash King seeks to corrupt it. You're scared of me because you don't know me. So let me show you."
He held out his hand to one of the court guards.
The man wavered, but the king nodded.
Kairo took the guard's sword—and melted it in his hand. Then reformed it into a flower of silver and flame.
There were gasps in the hall.
"This is what the Cradle teaches," said Kairo. "To create. Not to destroy."
The king studied him. "And if I refuse you?"
Kairo's flame diminished. "Then you give the Ash King your silence. And when he comes, it will be not with words."
That night, the court deliberated. Kairo and his companions were offered chambers in the guest wing. Not a prison—but not freedom either.
As the city fell asleep, Kairo stared out at the spires, fire flickering faintly at his fingertips.
Virella stood beside him. "He's stalling."
"I know."
"He'll try something."
"I'm counting on it."
At midnight, it came.
A whisper beneath the door. A gust of ash. And then—an explosion.
Not fire. Void.
The room shook as black-veiled killers burst through the windows, swords bared, mouths sewn shut.
Ashbound.
Sera moved first, sweeping Kairo aside with a gust of wind-fire. Virella pulled both blades and welcomed the invaders with lethal grace. Niko released a burst of brilliant light from his fingertips, revealing the shadow-magic etched into their skin.
Kairo's flames sprang to life.
Something was amiss, however.
One of the assassins wore the crest of Eldrin.
A royal seal.
They fought through the halls, fire and steel clashing with shadow. Guards poured in—but some fought alongside them.
Chaos spread through the palace.
Kairo smashed into the throne room, fire raging from his shoulders. The king was frozen in position, sword in hand, while a shadow-shrouded noble whispered in his ear.
Kairo burned the shadow.
The noble collapsed—his eyes empty.
The king stumbled back, horrified. "What… what have I done?"
Kairo stepped forward. "You've been staring at the wrong foe."
By sunrise, the fires had died out.
The Ash King's agents—half of whom were nobles bought or bewitched—had been exposed. The royal council was purged. New guards were sworn. And the king, shaken but not broken, turned to Kairo.
Your Cradle isn't the only place with enemies hiding in the dark. You have Eldrin's blessing. Whatever you need."
Kairo bowed his head.
"We all need the flame if we're going to survive this war."
Before he left, Kairo walked out onto the palace balcony and looked out over the crowds.
Some waved. Some stared.
But many—many—held small, flickering lights in their hands.
Candles.
Lanterns.
A symbol.
The fire was catching.
And this time…
It would not go out.