The silence that followed the firestorm was not peace.
It was fear.
Ash still clung to the edges of the village—coating stone walls and wooden carts, hanging in the air like ghosts. No one had slept. Not after what Kael had done. Not after the way his scream had cracked the sky and the ground had burned with fury that wasn't his.
They called it a blessing.
But the people of Aerilon whispered another word.
Curse.
He sat now at the edge of the well where he used to toss stones as a child. His hands trembled. He stared down into the water as if hoping to see someone else in the reflection. Someone who hadn't destroyed a man in front of the entire village.
He had tried to defend a friend.
Instead, he had become something they feared.
"Kael!"
The shout cracked through the morning like a whip.
A woman ran toward him—her golden-blonde hair whipping in the wind, barefoot in the dust, her eyes wide with tears. She was beautiful in a natural, quiet way—her features sharp and high-boned, her body tall and lean with strength born of raising a son alone for seventeen years. The leather straps of her dress swung loose, her apron half-burnt from running through embers to get to him.
"Mother..." Kael stood, but Alicia threw her arms around him before he could finish.
"Oh, thank the stars... thank the stars, you're alive." Her hands cradled his face, checking for wounds he no longer had. "They said you burned him. That you—Kael, they're talking about exile. Worse."
He winced. "I didn't mean to... I didn't even know I could do something like that. It just happened."
"I know," she whispered, pulling him tighter. "You're not a monster."
But not everyone shared her belief.
Across the square, the village elders gathered in hushed clusters. Farmers. Smiths. The baker who once slipped Kael sweets. They all looked at him with cautious, narrowed eyes. Some with hatred. Others with fear. Only a few held pity—and even those seemed afraid to show it for long.
One man, broad-shouldered with a face creased by labor, stepped forward.
"He's dangerous," the man said. "You saw it! That boy lit the ground on fire with his scream. We can't have him here when the next patrol comes through. The Conclave won't care that he's just a boy."
"He saved that girl from those brutes," another argued. "If not for him, she might've been—"
"And now we're all going to hang for it!" the first man spat. "Because of a blessed, hiding in our midst."
Kael lowered his eyes.
Alicia's voice rang clear. "He is my son. And if you think you can cast him out after everything this village has taken from him, you'll go through me."
That's when the stranger stepped into the square.
A long, gray cloak trailed behind him, dust-licked at the hem. His hair was dark, touched at the temples with silver. His eyes were unreadable—piercing blue, yet almost too still. He moved like a man who knew exactly how far every voice in the square could carry, and made sure his carried further.
"I will take the boy."
Everyone turned.
He walked past them like they were trees in a forest—acknowledging but unaffected. When he stood before Kael, he bowed his head just slightly.
"My name is Leonardo Greves. I am a keeper of lost knowledge. A soldier of old war. And a teacher to those who awaken."
Kael blinked. "You knew I would awaken?"
"No," Leonardo said. "But I was watching. Because sometimes, fire finds kindling."
Alicia stepped forward. "What do you want with my son?"
Leonardo's voice was low, respectful. "To keep him alive. To teach him what his power is, and what it is not. I can give him three months. After that... the Conclave will come."
The murmurs returned—Conclave. Army. Investigation.
Leonardo turned to the villagers. "I will leave you my mark at the village gate. No harm will come to you under it. But should you harm the boy..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Kael looked to his mother. "I don't want to leave you."
Alicia's eyes shimmered, but she smiled with fierce warmth. "You are your father's son. He once fought in the Imperium's elite, remember? He went missing when you were a child. They said he died—but I never believed it."
Kael's voice wavered. "Yo
u always said he'd come back."
Her smile cracked just slightly. "Now you will."
Months Later
Kael stood taller. His arms had grown stronger, his stance more grounded. Under Leonardo's ruthless but wise training, he had learned breathing, control, technique, and the beginnings of channeling.
He had tasted the edge of his power, and learned not to drown in it.
But when they returned to Aerilon...
The air was wrong.
Still.
Too still.
The gate stood half-shattered. Silence clung to the village like a burial shroud. There were no greetings, no market sounds. The earth was scorched in places. The smell of char lingered in the wind.
Kael's steps slowed. His chest tightened.
Then he saw it.
A scarf—his mother's—tangled on the branch of the old well tree. It hadn't been there before. The fabric was frayed and weathered, but not rotted. A fresh tear, ash clinging to its folds. Recent. Strands of golden hair still clung to it.
His knees buckled.
He ran.
He ran through blackened ash, past doors caved in, and saw the village square stained with something that refused to fade. Drag marks. Ash where houses once stood. A melted ring embedded in scorched stone. The homes of those who had once stood for him—gone.
Kael fell to his knees.
He clutched the scarf to his chest. Breath coming ragged.
Then it cracked.
A cry tore from his lungs—raw, ragged, broken. He slammed his fists into the dirt again and again, tears streaming, voice trembling.
"They killed her... They killed her! Why!?"
His power sparked around his fingers—wild, unfocused, grief-ignited.
But then—
A hand rested on his shoulder.
Firm. Warm. Grounding.
Leonardo knelt beside him, eyes heavy with something deeper than pity.
"Let it out," he said calmly. "Grief unspoken becomes a poison. But grief released becomes resolve."
Kael gasped for air. The flames that licked his skin died down. His tears still fell.
Leonardo waited until the sobs softened, then spoke:
"You will never be who you were before today. But what you become from this moment—that choice is yours."
Kael wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
His
voice was hoarse, but steady.
"Then teach me everything."