After leaving Lira behind, Eson wandered aimlessly through the Ashen Wastes, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. Anger at her betrayal warred with guilt over abandoning her—and beneath it all lay a gnawing sense of purpose. He couldn't afford to dwell on what had happened. Not when the sigil on his palm continued to pulse, urging him forward.
The scroll they had discovered in the ruins weighed heavily in his thoughts. If Lira wouldn't help him decipher it, he would find someone who could. But who? The answer came unexpectedly when he stumbled upon a makeshift camp nestled in the shadow of a crumbling tower.
A hooded figure sat by a small fire, poring over a stack of ancient texts. Their face was obscured, but their aura exuded wisdom—and danger.
"Who are you?" Eson asked cautiously, his hand hovering near the sigil on his palm.
The figure lowered their book and looked up, revealing piercing gray eyes that seemed to see straight through him. "I am Kael," they said, their voice calm but commanding. "And you, boy, carry the mark of the Eternal Flame."
Eson stiffened. "How do you know about that?"
Kael smirked faintly, gesturing for him to sit. "Few things escape my notice—not when I've spent decades studying the Flame's secrets. Show me the scroll, and perhaps I can shed some light on its contents."
Reluctantly, Eson handed over the scroll, watching as Kael unfurled it with practiced care. The old scholar's eyes widened slightly as he scanned the shimmering text, muttering under his breath in a language Eson didn't recognize.
"This is… remarkable," Kael finally said, looking up with a mixture of awe and concern. "It speaks of the Heart of the Flame—a core fragment said to hold the essence of the Eternal Flame itself."
"The Heart of the Flame?" Eson repeated, frowning. "What does it do?"
"It grants unimaginable power—but at a terrible cost," Kael replied gravely. "Legends say it consumes those who wield it, turning them into vessels for the Flame's will. Many have sought it, but none have returned."
Eson's heart raced. If the Heart of the Flame truly existed, it could be the key to defeating the Emberlords. But was he willing to risk becoming its slave?
That night, as Kael slept, Eson found himself staring into the flames of their campfire. The sigil on his palm throbbed faintly, as if drawn to the flickering light. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Flame was watching him—testing him.
A vision suddenly overtook him, pulling him into a dreamscape filled with swirling blue fire. In the center stood the same cloaked woman from his previous dream, her crimson eyes glowing brighter than ever.
"You seek the Heart," she whispered, her voice echoing like distant thunder. "But beware, boy—the Flame does not choose lightly. It demands sacrifice."
"What kind of sacrifice?" Eson demanded, stepping closer despite the heat radiating from her form.
She smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in her expression. "Everything you hold dear. Your humanity. Your soul. Are you prepared to lose yourself for vengeance?"
Before he could respond, the flames surged around her, swallowing her whole. Eson woke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. Beside him, Kael stirred but didn't wake.
Was the woman a manifestation of the Flame—or something else entirely? And why did she keep warning him?
The next morning, Eson confronted Kael about the vision. To his surprise, the scholar nodded knowingly. "The Flame often communicates through dreams—it seeks those strong enough to bear its burden. If you're determined to find the Heart, I can guide you to its rumored location. But understand this: the path ahead is fraught with peril."
"I don't care," Eson said firmly, his resolve unwavering. "If the Heart can give me the power to destroy the Emberlords, I'll do whatever it takes."
Kael studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. But remember, the Flame doesn't grant gifts—it makes deals. Be careful what you bargain for."
With that, they set off toward the rumored resting place of the Heart of the Flame—a forgotten temple buried deep within the Ashen Wastes. As they walked, Eson couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking straight into a trap. Yet, he pressed on, driven by the burning need for vengeance—and the hope of redemption.