The morning came quietly, filtered through a pale orange sky that looked more like a memory than sunlight. Emberlynn awoke on a cot near the fire, the warmth seeping into her bones. For a moment, she almost forgot where she was—until she rolled over and saw Malphas sharpening a blade made entirely of shadow.
"I thought demons didn't need sleep," she murmured.
"We don't," he said without looking up. "But I waited. You'll need your strength today."
Emberlynn sat up slowly. Her muscles ached, her mind felt foggy from dreams she couldn't remember—flashes of fire, wings made of smoke, a song she couldn't understand.
"What kind of training is this going to be?"
"The kind you survive, hopefully."
He stood, eyes glinting like coal just before it crumbles. "The Key inside you—it's not passive. It responds to emotion, to fear, desire, pain. So we're going to trigger it."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is."
The forest beyond the clearing had changed overnight. The trees were darker, the wind sharper. Like the land itself knew what was coming.
Malphas led her to a circle of stones etched with ancient runes. As Emberlynn stepped into it, the temperature dropped instantly. Her breath puffed out in white clouds.
"This is a tether ring," he said. "It binds power to form. Anything you summon inside it stays… mostly controlled."
"Mostly?"
"Depends on the summoner."
He tossed her the book he'd given her the night before. "Page seventeen."
Emberlynn flipped it open with trembling fingers. The words shifted and shimmered as she read them aloud.
"Flammae ex umbra. Lux ex corde."
The ground inside the circle glowed. Heat surged up through her boots. Emberlynn gasped as flames coiled around her wrists—not burning, but alive. They pulsed with her heartbeat, licking at her skin like they recognized her.
Malphas watched carefully, his hands ready to intervene. "Good. Now hold it. Don't let fear scatter it."
But the moment he said fear, Emberlynn thought of the Watcher's mask. Of Azroth's cruel laugh. Of her mother's face—blurred, fading from memory.
The fire turned wild.
It roared upward, nearly breaking the circle. Emberlynn cried out, trying to pull back, but the flames wouldn't let go—they clung to her, demanding more.
"Focus!" Malphas barked. "Don't fight it. Command it."
Emberlynn squeezed her eyes shut.
I am not your prisoner, she whispered in her mind. I am your flame.
The fire hesitated—then stilled.
It wrapped around her arms like silk and settled.
When she opened her eyes, Malphas looked… impressed.
"Not bad," he said. "You nearly torched the veil between realms, but not bad."
She laughed breathlessly, her body shaking with adrenaline.
"So this is just the beginning?"
"Oh, Ember." Malphas smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "This was the easy part."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a crystal orb the color of smoke. Inside, shadows swirled slowly—almost lazily.
"What's that?" she asked.
"A memory. Not yours, but tied to the Key. Drink the vial the Oracle gave you. Then hold this."
Emberlynn pulled the vial from her satchel. It shimmered like liquid moonlight. Her fingers hesitated around the cork.
"You said these aren't my memories."
"They're the Key's. But the Key is you now. What it remembers… you'll feel."
She drank.
Cold fire slid down her throat, and the moment it hit her stomach, the world exploded.
She was no longer standing.
She was burning.
Not in pain—but in power. The memory pulled her through space, time, and soul.
She stood in a battlefield of shattered temples. Screams echoed. A woman—her face not Emberlynn's, but somehow familiar—raised her hand and summoned a sun of black fire. Around her, demons bowed. Warriors fell to their knees. The sky split open.
And in front of her, chained and kneeling, was Malphas.
Not smug. Not smooth.
Broken.
"Do you swear fealty to the Key?" the woman asked.
Malphas lifted his head. His mouth moved—but Emberlynn couldn't hear the words. Only see the pain in his eyes. And the love.
The memory shattered like glass.
She collapsed to her knees, panting.
Malphas stood over her, unmoving.
"You saw it?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she whispered. "That was me… wasn't it? Or someone like me."
He didn't answer.
"Why were you kneeling?"
He looked away. "Because I broke a promise. And she made sure I remembered it."
Emberlynn stared at him.
For the first time, she saw the depth of his guilt.
The ache he carried.
The reason he was helping her wasn't just duty. It was repentance.
And maybe something else.
Something unspoken.
She rose slowly, her legs weak but steady.
"I want to keep training," she said.
Malphas met her gaze.
"Then tomorrow," he said, "we awaken your second flame."