The Emberwood had moods.
Some mornings were peaceful — full of birdcall and the gentle whisper of wind. Others felt… restless. Like the roots themselves held their breath, waiting for something to stir.
This morning was one of those.
Ariya felt it the moment she opened her eyes — a pull deep in her chest. The mark on her shoulder flickered beneath her tunic, not hot, not painful… just awake.
"You alright?" Kael asked as they packed for training.
"Yeah," she replied slowly, tightening her leather bracer. "Just… something's calling."
Jax peeked over her shoulder dramatically. "You mean emotionally calling or like—'ancient magic sealed behind an obsidian wall' calling?"
"You joke too much for someone who once set his boots on fire," Lyra muttered.
Still… something in Ariya's chest tugged harder.
It wasn't fear.It was familiar.
By midday, they found themselves back at the temple.
The entrance shimmered faintly with old magic. No wind. No bird song. Just stillness — like the entire forest paused to see what would happen next.
Ariya led the way.
As they stepped into the dark corridor, torches lit themselves, fire blooming in a wave ahead. The air felt heavier than before.
"I think… it wants to show you something," Lyra whispered.
They returned to the mural chamber — now quiet, no longer glowing. But Ariya walked toward a far wall, her steps sure even though she had no idea why.
She placed her hand on the black stone.
Her mark burned to life.
With a hiss and a click, a section of the wall split. A hidden door.
It slid open slowly, revealing a small alcove lined with faded runes and a pedestal made of crystal. Upon it rested a single object: a dagger.
Ariya stepped forward, breath caught in her throat.
The dagger shimmered — forged of something darker than obsidian, but edged in gold. Flames coiled within the metal itself, trapped like a heartbeat.
"That's…" Kael said behind her, hand inching toward his sword. "That's not just a weapon."
"It's a key," Lyra said.
"It's freaking beautiful," Jax added. "Also probably cursed. But in a hot way."
Ariya reached out.
The moment her fingers closed around the hilt, fire blazed across the runes, lighting up the chamber.
The dagger responded like it had known her forever.
It pulsed with warmth. It fit.
And when Kael reached to touch it, the blade sparked — repelling his hand with a burst of light.
"Okay," he grunted. "Guess it likes only you."
Ariya stared at the weapon in her hand. It felt… right.
Then she noticed the slip of parchment beneath it. Old. Crisp. Written in ink that shimmered like flame.
She picked it up and read aloud:
"To the bearer of the soulflame…If you're reading this, then I am gone.But my fire lives on in you.The blade is yours — forged from the last spark of the First Flame.Use it wisely. Use it when you must choose.You are not alone, my daughter."
Ariya's hands trembled.
"Daughter?" Jax asked, blinking. "That was… your mother?"
Ariya nodded slowly, her voice breaking. "It has to be. That's… her mark. I saw it in the vision."
Kael placed a quiet hand on her shoulder. "She left this for you. A message. A weapon. A legacy."
Ariya stared down at the dagger — her mother's fire, now hers.
"Then I'll honor it."
That night, Ariya sat alone in the sanctuary, dagger across her lap, flames dancing in the forge nearby.
And far away, in a dark tower of frozen stone…
Ruvan stirred.
The Shard flared once with light — just for a second.
He smirked.
"You're waking up, little fire. Let's see how bright you can burn… before I break you."