The flames had long since extinguished, yet their memory still coursed through Arin's veins. He found himself alone in his room, knees drawn to his chest, his gaze fixed on the wall where those five haunting words had burned into his memory: "You Are Not The Last." What could it possibly mean? He had always thought of himself as solitary his powers one of a kind, his lineage lost to the sands of time. But now, that comforting lie had unraveled. If others shared his fate, where were they? Were they hiding? Watching? Waiting? Or worse... hunting?
The Toll of Truth
Morning light crept in, but sleep remained elusive. The Memory Flame had done more than reveal the past it had transformed him. He felt it deep within his bones. Fire no longer seared his skin; shadows seemed to retreat as he walked through the halls. Even his magic felt enhanced stronger, quicker, sharper. During class, Professor Maelis had him showcase a simple flame spell. What should have been a gentle flicker erupted into a blaze that singed the chalkboard and shattered every candle in the room. Gasps erupted from his classmates. Some even recoiled in fear. Only Lyra showed curiosity. The rest looked... terrified. That fear shadowed him everywhere he went. Through the dorms, the mess hall, and even the library whispers followed him like a persistent ghost.
"He's the one who triggered the seal."
"He doesn't even need incantations anymore did you see his hands light up?"
"What if he's a threat?"
What if he was?
Lyra's Discovery
That night, Lyra knocked on his door. Arin let her in without a word. She didn't waste time. "I've been digging into your name," she said, unfurling ancient scrolls and worn books across his desk. "Your last name Valen isn't just noble. It's been erased from certain records. Redacted."
Arin blinked, confusion washing over him. "Why?"
She opened a book titled *Bloodlines of the War Era*. "Because the Valens were the last royal family of Flamebloods before the Rebellion." She pointed at a faded illustration a man engulfed in flames, wielding a staff of obsidian and gold. Below it read: King Eldran Valen, Keeper of Forbidden Truths. "That's your ancestor," Lyra stated.
Arin stared at the image. The man's face... it bore a striking resemblance to his father's. "But if my family were royalty," he questioned, "why did we live in shadows? Why didn't my parents ever tell me?"
"Because knowing would've put you in danger."
The Echoes of the Flamebloods
That night, they returned to the Old Alchemy Wing now their makeshift meeting spot. Arin came equipped with a notebook, his wand, and the book Lyra had unearthed. Varik was already waiting. "You drank the Memory Flame," he noted. "And lived. That confirms it. You're awakening."
"Awakening to what?" Arin asked.
Varik guided them to a large brass mirror hidden beneath old curtains and dust. With a whispered spell, the mirror shimmered and shifted not reflecting them, but displaying moving images. Scenes of ancient wars, flying fortresses, armies of mages wielding dragonfire, shadows consuming entire cities. "Flamebloods were more than just guardians," Varik explained. "They were the last line of defense against an enemy forgotten by time."
"What enemy?" Lyra pressed.
Varik hesitated. "The Whispering Void."
Arin frowned. "That was in the vision."
"Except for me," Arin replied, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
Varik shook his head. "Not just you."
The Burning List
Reaching inside his cloak, Varik produced a crumpled piece of parchment and handed it to Arin. The paper was fragile, stained with ash. Nine names adorned the list. His eyes were drawn to one immediately:
Arin Valen — Confirme
Another name was underlined:
Irya Fenwyn — Missing
And others:
Kalen Dros — Deceased
Mirael Thorne — Status Unknown
Tyven of the Ashmounts — Confirmed
Coren Duskwright — Suspected Traitor
Eylaen and Renn — Twins, Unawakened
Lirin Flameborn — Location Unknown
"They're... like me?" Arin asked, disbelief flooding him.
Varik nodded. "Each one bears Flameblood heritage. Scattered across the continents after the Rebellion. Most are in hiding. Some are in peril."
"Why give me this?" Arin inquired.
"Because the Whispering Void is stirring once more," Varik said solemnly. "And when they return, we'll need all of you."
Betrayal in the Shadows
Later that night, Arin made his way back to his dorm. But as he approached his room, something felt off. The door stood ajar, and inside, his belongings were in disarray drawers overturned, pages yanked from his notebooks, his wand cracked and abandoned on the floor.
Someone had ransacked his room.
He dashed out, scanning the corridor. It was empty. But then, he glanced at his desk's edge and saw it a single black feather. Identical to the one from his earlier vision. Yet this time, it wasn't glowing. It was charred.
The Headmaster's Warning
On the following morning, Arin found himself called once more this time, however, the destination was not the Headmaster's office but a hidden place known as the Vault of Records. This was a chamber few students even knew about, concealed deep beneath the school and protected by ancient spells that predated the land itself. As he stepped inside, Headmaster Caelum stood next to a shimmering crystal globe. Within it, images danced visions of Arin's room being searched, but the intruder remained unseen.
"Someone is watching you," Caelum stated plainly.
"I know," Arin replied, a chill creeping up his spine.
"You're being hunted. And it's not just the students," Caelum continued, his voice grave.
Arin's fists tightened in response. "You're not safe here," the Headmaster told him. "Not completely. But if you choose to leave now, you'll never be prepared."
"Prepared for what?" Arin questioned, his curiosity piqued.
"To lead the Flamebloods."
The Spark of Resolve
As Arin made his way back to his room, two realizations weighed heavily on his mind: others like him existed, and someone wanted to silence him before he could find them. Once seated, he cleared off his desk and opened to a fresh page in his journal. He scribbled just five words:
"I will find them all."
Then, he flipped the page and started crafting a list of names Flamebloods to track down, mysteries to unravel, truths to uncover. His blood had transformed from a mere curse into a guiding map. The fire that resided within him was just starting to ignite.