Chapter Four: The Baby in the Fire
King Alex's footsteps echoed through the castle halls, the sharp clack of his boots bouncing off stone and silence. His mind was anything but calm. As he passed his armored knights, they bowed, but he didn't see them.
How could a baby survive dragon fire?Worse—how could he vanish?
Alex clenched his gloved fist.
No trace. No blood. No cry. Just… gone.
He stopped by a stained-glass window showing an old prophecy long forgotten. The image of a burning sun wrapped in dragon wings stared back at him.
That child... is dangerous.And now, he was somewhere in the kingdom.
"Find him," Alex muttered to himself again. "Before it's too late
The world didn't just shake—it screamed.
Thunder cracked through the skies like a god's fist slamming the heavens. The mountains that surrounded our peaceful little cottage groaned and rumbled, echoing with a warning I didn't yet understand.
I'd heard storms before, magical surges, even rogue beasts trying to escape the forbidden northern woods. But this… this was different.
I rushed to the window, heart pounding so hard it echoed in my ears.
Then I saw it.
A ball of fire falling from the sky—but it wasn't normal fire. No, it was black. Black as midnight ink, shimmering with silvery sparks that danced around it like stars. It was glowing. Alive.
It wasn't just falling—it was coming. Straight for us.
Straight for me.
I gasped and stumbled back, a scream breaking from my throat just as the world exploded.
BOOM.
The mountain roared. Trees snapped like twigs. The stone floor beneath me lurched, and I fell to my knees as the entire cottage trembled violently. Books fell from shelves. Pots shattered. The old grandfather clock cracked down the middle.
The power in that crash—that impact—it was unnatural. It was divine. And it was close.
So close.
I should have hidden.I should've waited for Master to return.But something stronger than reason gripped my chest—an invisible pull.
A call.
Whatever had just fallen… was calling me.
I stepped outside into a thick wall of fog. The trees looked different—like they were holding their breath. The leaves no longer rustled. The forest had fallen silent. Completely. Utterly.
And that's when I knew… magic had touched this place.
Not our kind of magic.
Something older.
I picked up my skirts and ran toward the cliffs.
Each step deeper into the forest felt heavier than the last. Like the ground itself was warning me not to go further. The air was too cold. The silence, too perfect.
The deeper I ran, the more the mist thickened, wrapping around me like pale ghost fingers.
Turn back. Turn back. Turn back.
My gut screamed it. But my feet didn't listen.
Then I saw the crater.
Huge. Still smoking. Charred trees surrounded it in a perfect circle, burned to the roots. The very ground had split open like an old scar being torn anew. Sparks danced faintly in the air like lost souls drifting upward.
And in the center of it all—he lay there.
A baby.
Wrapped in white.
Untouched by the destruction around him.
But that wasn't the most terrifying part.
He was wrapped in flames.
Black, glittering flames that pulsed like a heartbeat—rising and falling, as though breathing with him.
My breath caught. I should have screamed, or run, or shielded myself with a warding spell. But I didn't.
I stepped closer.
The fire didn't burn the grass beneath him. It didn't destroy his cloth. It simply surrounded him, like a cradle made of stars and shadow.
He wasn't crying.
He was watching me.
As though he'd been waiting.
I didn't know how I found the courage to move. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was fate. But I stepped into the crater, slowly, my hands trembling as I knelt beside him.
He looked so small. So fragile.
And yet… the power radiating from him made my bones ache.
What are you? I wanted to ask.Instead, I whispered, "Hey… are you okay?"
Stupid, I know. But it felt right.
He cooed softly.
Then his tiny hand reached toward me—burning flames parting as he moved—and touched my fingers.
The fire didn't burn.
It was warm. Gentle. Comforting.
Then his eyes opened.
I forgot how to breathe.
They were gold, but not just gold—lava gold. Molten and swirling, full of starlight and something more ancient than time.In that gaze, I saw galaxies. I saw firestorms and the fall of empires. I saw sorrow and beauty.But most of all, I saw something that terrified me to the core:
This child was not meant for this world.
He was meant to change it.
The flames around him flared as if hearing my thoughts.
For a split second, they formed symbols—runes I didn't recognize, floating above his body, before vanishing in smoke.
I stumbled back.
The baby reached again. He wanted me. Me.
My mind screamed for me to run. But my heart… my heart was already gone.
I wrapped him carefully in his cloth and held him close.
He made a soft sound—like a purr—and the flames vanished. Just like that.
He was normal now.
Or… pretending to be.
As I carried him back through the forest, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just stolen a piece of the stars.
And somehow, the stars were watching me back.