The Reborn Knight: Flames of Destiny

Flames in the Dark

The forest was silent except for our ragged breathing and the crunch of twigs beneath our boots. The darkness between the trees felt alive, pressing in, watching us. It wasn't paranoia—I felt something out there.

I should have been grateful that we had escaped the Inquisition's grasp, but the fire in my chest still burned with unease.

I had wielded my power—but I had not controlled it.

Cain moved ahead, his steps unnaturally light, like a predator stalking prey. Always in control. Always one step ahead. "We stop here," he said, suddenly halting in a small clearing surrounded by ancient trees.

Lyria shot him a glare. "We're not far enough."

"We are." Cain's voice was lazy, but there was steel beneath it. "The tracks I left will send them the wrong way. Relax, little wolf."

Lyria exhaled sharply, but didn't argue. That could only mean one thing—he had planned this.

I tried to ignore the weight in my chest, the lingering sensation of fire under my skin, as I let myself breathe. But I wasn't just tired—I was unraveling.

Cain sat on a fallen log, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. Predatory. Calculating. "You have a problem, prince."

I stiffened, my body still tense from the escape. "And what's that?"

"You have a fire inside you that will kill you before you ever learn to wield it."

His words landed like a fist to the gut.

I looked down at my hands. The flames were gone, but I could still feel them—like a second heartbeat, restless and eager to burn.

Cain studied me for a long moment. "Do you know the difference between you and me?" He lifted his right arm, the one wrapped in dark leather—the one that had burned when I melted his sword. "I know when to stop."

I remembered the way his weapon had scorched, how he had pulled back just in time. I hadn't.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Lyria watching me, her grip tightening around the hilt of her dagger. She hadn't said it outright, but I knew what she was thinking. If I lost control, I'd be a bigger threat than our enemies.

Cain sighed and stood. "Alright. You want to master your fire? Let's see if you're even worth the effort."

The Trial Begins

He grabbed a dry branch from the ground and held it out to me. "Light it."

I frowned. "What?"

"This." He tapped the brittle wood with his blade. "Set it ablaze. No anger. No fear. Control."

I clenched my jaw. This should be easy, right? I had burned entire buildings. A branch shouldn't be a challenge.

I stretched out my hand, focusing on the warmth in my chest, trying to direct it outward. The air wavered with heat. A golden flicker curled along my palm—then nothing.

Cain watched with his arms crossed. "Any day now."

I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and tried again. This time, I forced the fire to come forward—only for a sharp sting to race up my arm.

I gasped, pulling back. Black scales had crept over my hand.

Lyria inhaled sharply.

Cain sighed. "I should've just let you die."

Rage flared in my chest, and this time, the fire answered immediately. A violent red spark jumped from my palm to the branch—and in an instant, it erupted into raging flames.

Cain nodded slowly. "And that… is exactly the problem."

I let the burning branch fall, realization sinking in. I hadn't called the fire. I had forced it out—through anger.

Cain leaned in, his voice quieter but sharper than before. "If the only way you can summon your flames is through rage, then one day, you'll only exist as long as you're angry."

A chill ran through me, colder than the night air.

Lyria stepped between us. "That's enough, Cain."

He turned his sharp grin on her. "Feel sorry for him, do you? That's even worse."

Lyria's hands curled into fists, but Cain ignored her, looking at me instead. "You want to control your fire? Learn to summon it without emotion. Otherwise, you'll end up no better than the beasts the Inquisition hunts."

My fingers trembled slightly. I didn't know if it was from exhaustion—or fear.

"And if I can't?" I asked quietly.

Cain's smirk deepened. "Then one day, you won't be anyone at all, Arin."

A Shadow in the Darkness

Before I could respond, a distant howl shattered the silence.

Lyria's body tensed. "That wasn't a wolf."

Cain slowly unsheathed his sword. "No. It wasn't."

A second howl rang out—closer.

The hairs on my arms stood on end. The air shifted. A cold wind swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of damp earth and something… rotten.

Then—movement.

Between the trees, I saw it. Glowing eyes, low to the ground. Not one pair—many.

Lyria's hand shot to her weapon. "They found us."

Cain clicked his tongue. "Well then, prince. Time for a real trial by fire."

I clenched my fists. The heat inside me surged—but this time, I wouldn't let it control me.

This time, I would master it.

No matter the cost.