" The Serpent's Eye"

She was gone.

The moment Caelan dared a step toward her, the assassin vanished—like a shadow slipping through the wall. No trail. No blood. Only a silver pin left where she had landed: the head shaped like a serpent coiled in a circle.

Caelan stared at it.

A symbol.

One he’d seen only once before.

Long ago, in a memory sharpened by pain: a man in golden armor screaming as flames devoured him, and on his neck—a serpent pin—just like this one.

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The next morning, the streets of Velkora stank of blood and ash. Word had spread. A merchant’s home burned in the night. No bodies found. Just an empty bed, a charred wall, and a symbol scorched into stone:

> 𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

It was the calling card of the Syndicate—a whisper-name for a faceless order of spies, assassins, and shadows. No one spoke of them. Not unless you wanted to vanish too.

Caelan kept his head down. But his thoughts spiraled.

Who was she? Why did she know his name? And why didn’t she kill him when she had the chance?

He returned to the temple that evening, only to find a letter tucked into the statue’s hands.

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> To the Forgotten Flame,

You’re not as hidden as you think. They know you live.

They will come again. But I won’t be among them.

I want answers too. Meet me at midnight. Ashglass docks.

Come alone.

—L

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He read it three times.

Then burned it.

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The moon over the docks was a pale, bruised thing. Caelan kept his blade at his side, coat drawn tight, hood over his brow. The ashglass glimmered beneath his boots—a black, oily stone from the volcanic mines nearby.

He waited.

And waited.

Midnight passed.

He nearly turned away when he heard the voice behind him.

“You came.”

He spun.

Liora stood beneath a broken arch, hair down, hood off. She looked… different in moonlight. Less like a weapon. More like a woman who had seen too much.

Caelan’s voice was steel. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

She stepped closer. “Because I saw something I wasn’t supposed to.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

She said nothing. Just stared at him, as if measuring whether to say the truth.

Then: “You’re not marked. But you carry the flame. You shouldn’t have it.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You should,” she said quietly. “Because your ancestors lit the sky on fire to steal it.”

Caelan’s stomach turned. “You’re lying.”

She pulled a scroll from her coat. Unrolled it.

A wanted poster.

His face. Younger. Bloodstained. The eyes the same. But the name?

> CAELAN VIREL – CHILD OF THE GODSBURNED BLOODLINE

EXECUTE ON SIGHT – BY ORDER OF THE HIGH THRONE

Caelan stared.

He stepped back.

“No,” he whispered. “That’s not—That’s not me.”

But he knew it was.

The face. The fire. The dreams. The voice that called to him in sleep.

Liora’s voice softened. “Who do you think sealed the Veil?”

He shook his head.

She stepped forward, slowly, carefully.

“You are the heir to the blood that broke the world. And the world will break again if they find out you live.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Caelan looked up. His voice was calm. But deadly.

“Why are you telling me this?”

She hesitated. Then said, “Because they lied to me, too.”

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Suddenly, a whistle cut the night.

Liora’s eyes widened. “Run.”

From the shadows, steel flashed.

Crossbow bolts sliced the air.

Guards. Dozens.

Caelan grabbed her wrist. “This way!”

They ran. Through crates. Over barrels. Onto the pier.

A bolt grazed Caelan’s shoulder—he winced, but kept moving.

Then—

> BOOM!

A fiery explosion tore through the dock behind them.

Smoke. Screams. Footsteps.

And something else.

A voice. Not a man’s. Not human.

A whisper inside Caelan’s head.

> “Awaken…”

He gasped. Fell to one knee.

Liora turned. “What is it?!”

The air around him shimmered. Time slowed. The world bent inward.

And from his hands—

Light exploded.

Blinding. Pure. Celestial.

Liora shielded her eyes.

The soldiers stopped.

Some screamed.

Others fled.

Only one voice remained, echoing from the sky:

> “The Flame has returned.”

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