The forest did not breathe.
It watched.
Kael stepped through the warped archway of twisted roots, still feeling the phantom quake that had shaken the world just an hour before. The air tasted metallic, like lightning trapped between the trees. Lira walked beside him, one hand brushing the edge of her dagger, the other hovering near Kael as if she expected him to collapse again at any moment.
"Stay close," Kael muttered.
"I always do," Lira answered, but her voice was tight, guarded.
The Man of Riddles—Maelor—led them forward, his cloak brushing the dead leaves in slow, deliberate movements. He didn't speak, not even a whisper of a riddle. And that was the first sign something was very, very wrong.
Maelor was never silent.
The deeper they walked, the heavier the air became. A low hum leaked from the ground, like something ancient shifting beneath the earth.
Lira felt it first.
She winced. "The world is… breathing weird."
Kael frowned. "Breathing?"
"No. Not breathing. Pulsing. Like a heartbeat."
Maelor stopped.
For a moment, he stood still—too still—his head tilted as though listening to a distant voice.
Then he spoke softly:
"Roots remember what stone forgets."
Kael blinked. "Maelor. Enough riddles. What's going on?"
But Maelor didn't answer. He merely walked forward again, deeper into the nest of roots.
They entered a clearing where massive trees leaned inward, forming a dome of bark and shadow. In the center: a circular depression in the earth, glowing faintly silver.
Kael stiffened.
He recognized that color.
His flame.
"Why is my magic here?" he whispered.
Maelor didn't respond. He knelt at the edge of the circle, tracing a finger over the silver-veined soil.
Lira stepped closer, her hand gripping Kael's sleeve. "This… this is a residue. Kael, whatever happened here, it was recent."
Kael felt his pulse echo in the ground.
Something had happened here.
Something tied to him.
Something he couldn't remember.
Maelor finally spoke.
But his voice trembled.
"This circle is a scar."
Kael froze. "A scar from what?"
Maelor looked up at him. And for the first time since Kael had met him, the riddle master's eyes held no mischief, no clever spark.
Only fear.
"From you, Kael."
Lira sucked in a sharp breath.
Kael stepped back, shaking his head. "No. I've never been here—I'd remember—"
"Not all scars leave memories," Maelor said softly.
The ground pulsed again.
Kael staggered as a sharp pain shot through his skull—images flashing like shattered glass:
A circle of silver fire.
A scream.
Wings unfurling from his back—massive, blinding, burning.
A voice whispering:
Break.
He gasped, gripping his head. Lira caught him before he fell.
"Kael—Kael, breathe—look at me—"
"Something happened," Kael choked out. "Something… in this place—"
Maelor nodded gravely.
"Yes. And what happened here must stay buried… or the prophecy of the Shattered Flame will quicken."
Kael met his eyes, breath trembling.
"What did I do?" he whispered.
Maelor didn't answer.
Because the ground began to rumble.
Not a normal tremble.
Not the harmless shake of shifting soil.
This was deeper—older—like the entire forest was grinding its teeth.
Lira's eyes widened. "Something's waking up."
Kael stood, silver sparks crawling under his skin.
Maelor rose slowly, cloak rustling.
"Not something," he said.
"Someone."
A fissure cracked open in the center of the clearing.
Lira drew her dagger.
Kael's hands ignited with silver fire.
Maelor stepped backward, cloak swirling around him.
And from the fissure came a whisper—soft, distant, but unmistakable:
"Kael…"
Kael stiffened.
Not a demon voice.
Not a dragon's roar.
Not an echo of the forest.
A human voice.
One he knew.
Lira whispered, horrified:
"…Kael. That's your voice."
The fissure widened.
Kael stepped back, fire crackling violently around his arms.
Because rising from the silver-lit crack, wrapped in smoke and shimmering flame—
—was another Kael.
Eyes silver.
Expression hollow.
Body flickering like a ghost pulled out of time.
Lira gasped.
Maelor swore under his breath.
Kael stared.
Frozen.
His ghostly double opened its mouth.
And whispered:
"Break the world."
The clearing exploded in light.