Kael didn't sleep that night.
He sat by a dying campfire at the edge of Fogmere Marsh, staring at the Mask of the First Flame. It no longer whispered, no longer pulsed—but it watched, in its own silent way.
> [Flameborn Path: 1% Awakened]
New Trait Gained: Emberheart (Passive)
Your soul burns with lingering divine fire. Mild resistance to fear, cold, and corruption.
Kael clenched his fist.
"Flameborn," he muttered. "What the hell does that even mean?"
The System didn't answer.
By midday, Kael reached the Eastern Watch—a towering stone outpost overlooking the Wyrmgate Cliffs. Battle flags fluttered in the wind, black smoke drifting up from recent skirmishes. Soldiers limped through the yard, mages recharging runestones, healers barking orders.
He approached the gate, flashing the royal signet.
The guards stiffened.
Within minutes, he was escorted to Commander Varyn, a grizzled war veteran with a missing eye and silver pauldrons scorched from battle.
"You're the king's errand boy?" Varyn asked, raising a brow. "Don't look like much."
"I get that a lot," Kael said dryly, handing over the sealed letter.
Varyn read. Then read again.
His expression darkened.
"…He sent you to investigate that?"
Kael nodded.
Varyn slammed the desk. "Damn it. We lost two patrols to that marsh temple. Your name came up on the last scout's log—said some 'torch-eyed stranger' fought the fog. Was that you?"
Kael hesitated. "Probably."
Varyn stared for a long moment. Then he tossed a satchel onto the table.
> Quest Reward Claimed: [Echoes of the Dead]
– 300 Gold
– Spell Scroll: [Ward of the Flame – Tier 1]
– Item: Blessed Ember Shard (Consumable – Purifies one corruption effect)
> System Notification:
Reputation with Royal Command: +150 (Recognized Agent)
Achievement Unlocked: [Bearer of the Hidden Fire]
Kael pocketed the shard and scroll silently.
"What did you see in that temple?" Varyn asked.
Kael thought about lying.
But the memory of the mask's heat—the feeling of his veins burning—stopped him.
"I found a relic. Cursed. Old. It… changed something inside me."
Varyn cursed under his breath.
"You need to leave. Now. Before they smell it."
Kael blinked. "Before who smells what?"
Varyn leaned close.
"There are things in this world that hunt power like yours. Ancient orders. Lost gods. Even monsters wearing the faces of men. That mask marked you."
Kael's hand drifted to the leather pouch where the mask rested.
"What do I do?"
The commander's face hardened. "You run. You train. And you pray the flame inside you doesn't wake before you're strong enough to hold it."
He slid a map across the table.
"Your next step is here—Ashvale Monastery. They study relics. They'll know what you carry."
Kael stood, heart pounding.
"Thanks."
"One more thing," Varyn said. "If that thing ever starts whispering again…"
Kael met his gaze.
"Burn it," they both said.
That night, as Kael made camp near the road to Ashvale, he examined his Skill Menu.
Something had changed.
A new tab shimmered faintly: [Flameborn Legacy]
Inside were locked abilities, branching like veins from a heart of fire.
At the center, a single phrase:
> You are the spark in the dark. You are the first breath of the last fire.
Kael closed the menu and looked to the stars.
He was no longer just an adventurer. No longer just a Reborn.
He was something worse.
Or something greater.
And the world would soon learn which.