Kael Thorne wiped the sweat off his face.
He was working in a hot forge, where fire roared and sparks flew.
He hit a piece of metal again and again with a hammer, shaping it into a sword.
It was hard work, but Kael liked it. Fire made sense to him.
Outside, heavy rain fell on the roof.
The forge was warm and noisy, and Kael didn't mind the storm.
"You're hitting it like you're angry," said Master Ren, the old blacksmith.
He had strong arms and a beard full of ashes.
Kael frowned. "I am angry. The king raised taxes again.
My mother has no money left."
Ren sighed. "You can't fight a king with a sword that's not finished. Focus."
Kael took a deep breath and raised the hammer again.
But just as he was about to strike, something strange happened.
The fire in the forge changed.
It grew bigger—brighter—hotter.
The flames moved like they were alive.
The metal began to glow too fast. Kael dropped his hammer and stepped back in shock.
"Did you see that?" he asked.
Ren looked confused. "The fire… that's not normal…"
Then the fire rose higher.
It twisted and shaped itself into a face.
A face made of flames. Its eyes were gold like melted metal. I
ts mouth was smoke.
Kael couldn't move. His chest felt hot. Like something inside him was waking up.
The fire-face looked straight at him and spoke one word:
"Awaken."
Then everything went dark.
When Kael woke up, he was lying on the forge floor. The fire was gone. The room was cold and silent. Master Ren was missing.
Kael sat up, heart pounding. What just happened?
Then he looked at his hand.
There, glowing softly in his palm, was a small, warm stone.
A piece of emberstone.
And it was calling to him.