The Wildfire stronghold disappeared behind them at dawn, smoke spiraling into the pale sky.
Leon and Astha rode west, across sunlit plains where wild flowers grew around shards of old stone, and then deeper into the green heart of the world: the Whisperwood.
The trees here were impossibly tall. Their bark shimmered with gold veins, and ancient runes glowed faintly among the moss.
"This is where the Healing Flame hides," Astha whispered."Legends say they vowed never to fight again—only to heal what the other houses destroyed."
Leon looked at his flame-marked hand.
"Then I hope they can see why we need them now."
🌿 The Temple Among Roots
By dusk, they reached it.
Half-buried under ivy and flowered vines lay the Temple of Saren—built around the living roots of the oldest tree in the forest.
A woman in pale green robes stepped from the shadows, her eyes soft but guarded.
"You stand in sacred ground," she said."Speak your purpose."
Leon bowed. "I seek the Healing Flame—to unite what was broken, to end the Shadowbound threat."
She studied him for a long moment. Then nodded.
"Then you must take the trial. But know this: here, the flame does not burn the body—it burns the spirit."
✨ The Garden of Memory
They led Leon alone into a sunlit garden where crystal flowers glowed and streams whispered over stone.
"Sit," the woman said.
Leon sat cross-legged among petals of silver.
She placed a hand on his chest.
"Close your eyes. Face your deepest wound."
💭 The Trial
Leon opened his eyes—and found himself standing in a memory.
He saw himself as a boy, small and scared, watching his village burn at the hands of mercenaries.
In the flames, he saw a shadow of himself, older, colder, laughing at the sight.
The vision whispered:
"You are flame. Flame destroys. Why pretend you can heal?"
Leon shook his head. "That's not true."
The shadow grew darker. "Even your ancestor betrayed. The fire inside you will betray too."
Leon's voice cracked. "I was powerless then—but I'm not powerless now."
He reached out—not to fight the shadow, but to embrace it.
"You're part of me. My fear. My anger. But you don't rule me."
🌸 The Bloom
The shadow faded.
A flower of living flame bloomed in Leon's chest, warm and gentle.
His flame mark glowed softly—not the violent red of battle, but a softer gold edged with silver.
Leon opened his eyes.
The woman knelt before him, tears shining.
"You faced your pain and chose to heal, not to hate.The Healing Flame accepts you."
🔥 Flamebearer of Three
Astha ran to him, relief in her eyes.
The woman handed Leon a small pendant shaped like a blooming flower.
"This carries the blessing of the Healing Flame. Use it to protect, not destroy."
Leon placed it around his neck.
"Three houses now," Astha whispered."Crimson. Wildfire. Healing Flame."
Leon looked toward the darkening horizon.
"And two remain.But the Shadowbound won't wait forever."
🌌 The Gathering Storm
Far to the north, at the edge of the Shadowlands, General Kael stood atop blackened stone.
Behind him, more Ashborn stepped from coffins—eyes burning with twisted flame.
Kael raised his hand.
"Soon, we march.And when the Crimson boy stands before me again…this time, there will be no escape."
The wind carried the smell of ash.
And far away, Leon felt it.
The fire warned him:
The war is coming.