The market of Vel'dran was alive with fire.
Not literal fire—though that wasn't uncommon—but the kind that burned in voices, bartered souls, and blood-warmed coin. Spices clashed with the stench of rusted steel. Minstrels sang songs about wars they never fought. A merchant screamed at a thief, who laughed as he vanished into an alley.
And amid it all, I walked unnoticed.
Hunched in a faded traveler's cloak—burned at the hem and stitched with thread the color of dried blood—I was just another shadow. Another orphan of the kingdom's chaos. But beneath the rags was the mark of Elion, burned into my chest like molten silver, pulsing to the rhythm of a world that never wanted me.
"Buy something, boy?" a vendor barked, waving a skinned serpent at my face. "Only six coppers! Good for the bones!"
I didn't answer. Just kept walking.
Because something was wrong today.
A tremor in the earth that no one else seemed to feel. A sharpness in the wind, like the sky had drawn its blade. And the whispers…
They were back.
He walks again. The False One. The Flame Bearer. Death trails him.
I gritted my teeth. The whispers always came before blood.
A child screamed.
I turned fast—cloak sweeping behind me like smoke—and saw a man in red armor dragging a young girl by the hair. The mark on his breastplate glowed with a sickly green rune: one of the King's Enforcers. The worst kind.
She couldn't have been older than eight.
"Stole from the temple," he snarled, raising a gauntlet.
And I moved.
Not because it was heroic. Not because it was right. But because I'd seen too many small hands broken while gods looked away.
My hand reached under the cloak. Gripped the shard.
Elion's last gift.
A splinter of divine crystal, once part of the throne itself. It hummed with silent fury.
"Let her go," I said.
The Enforcer turned, sneering. "Another beggar playing hero. Want her punishment?"
I didn't answer. I stepped forward. And when he reached for his blade, I pressed the shard to my palm.
The world paused.
For a breath, I felt everything—the weight of the sun, the secrets in the soil, the names of stars long forgotten. Power surged, wild and aching, like trying to hold lightning in bare hands.
Then the wind exploded.
The Enforcer flew back ten feet, armor crumpling like paper. People screamed. The crowd scattered.
The girl looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. "W-what are you…?"
I knelt beside her, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders.
"I'm no one," I whispered. "And that's the problem."
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