The silence after Flamen’s fall was unbearable. The air, which had trembled just a moment ago with the tension of dark flames, now felt heavy, solid as stone.
Emiren knelt beside his friend’s body, feeling a weight settle in his heart. Flamen lay motionless, his skin no longer radiating that warm light that had always been a part of him.
The Hollow stood nearby, silent.
— What’s wrong with him? — Emiren’s voice was hoarse, almost breaking.
The Hollow slowly placed a hand on Flamen’s chest, leaned in, listening.
— His fire… is gone.
Emiren clenched his fists.
— But it wasn’t supposed to… He made a choice! He…
— He gave everything to rid himself of the darkness, — the Hollow’s voice was even, but there was a bitterness in it. — But without his fire, he… is no longer who he was.
Emiren felt a crushing sense of loss.
Flamen had always been fire. Not just the magic flames he wielded. His soul was fire. His passion, his life, his laughter…
And now he lay still, stripped of his essence.
— No.
Emiren placed his hands on his friend’s chest, closing his eyes.
He wouldn’t let this happen.
He had altered the course of time before.
And he would do it again.
Searching for a Spark
Emiren focused.
He dove into the flow of time, searching… searching for any spark that might still remain within Flamen.
He saw his past. His childhood among the flames, his first lessons in wielding fire, his early victories and defeats. He saw how Flamen learned, how he fought, how he triumphed…
How he lived.
And in every one of those moments, fire blazed.
But now…
Now it was gone.
And yet…
Emiren sensed something faint. A barely perceptible warmth, smoldering deep within the darkness.
He reached for it, carefully, as if afraid that too strong a wind might extinguish the last ember.
And then…
The fire flared.
The Fire Returns
Flamen gasped sharply, his body jerking, a weak, barely visible flame flickering from his chest.
Emiren staggered back, his heart pounding.
— He’s alive!
Flamen opened his eyes.
But they were not the same as before.
— What… happened? — his voice was hoarse, weak.
The Hollow studied him intently.
— You’ve returned. But your fire… is not the same.
Flamen raised his hand.
It was cold.
His flames had always been warm, hot, as if the very sun burned inside him.
But now…
When he summoned fire, it was pale, silvery, almost ghostly.
— What is this…?
A chill ran down Emiren’s spine.
It was fire… but not one that belonged to the world of the living.
It was a fire that had been born beyond the veil.
A fire that had survived death.
Flamen stared at his hands, and his eyes changed again.
They no longer resembled embers glowing in the dark.
Now they looked like cold stars.
— What has happened to me?
The Hollow let out a slow breath.
— You have changed.
And none of them knew what this change meant.
But Emiren could feel one thing:
This was only the beginning.