Chapter 4: The Searing Path
The wind over the Bastion’s northern wall howled like a living thing, carrying snow and whispers of unrest. Thalen stood at the edge of the departure platform, cloak whipping behind him, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade.
It pulsed now alive with something new.
The Ember State.
Not full Tyrant Spirit, not yet but a mark that his soul had been tempered by the First Flame. His aura felt denser, heavier, yet easier to control. The sword at his back, a mid-tier rare blade now inscribed with faint runes, shimmered with residual heat even in the freezing air.
He wasn’t the same boy who arrived here weeks ago.
Beside him, Ragan stood silent, his eyes locked on the mountainous horizon.
"A disturbance in the eastern reach," he said. "Border town called Jastel’s Ridge. Reports of corrupted aura activity. You’ll go with a team observe, contain, eliminate if necessary."
"Why me?" Thalen asked. "There are stronger warriors."
"There are," Ragan admitted. "But none who’ve just touched the Ember State. I want to see if it holds in the field or collapses."
Thalen glanced toward the others waiting behind him Bran, Liora, Selis, and Aven. All dressed in travel gear, all watching him.
They weren’t just assigned to him.