The first scream reached Kael before the fire did.
It cut through the quiet dusk like a blade, sharp and sudden, tearing him from the edge of his thoughts. He spun around, heart slamming in his chest, and saw the orange glow crawling up the wooden rooftops of Pyrehold—his home, his prison, his entire world.
"No… no, no, no…"
The flames answered him, roaring louder as they devoured the dry timber. Smoke poured into the sky like a dark omen, blotting out the fading stars.
Kael staggered backward, his hands trembling. His palms were still warm. Still glowing faintly.
He had done this.
The power had surged through him again—too fast, too strong. He had only wanted the voices to stop. Only wanted the pressure in his chest to disappear. He never meant to lose control.
But intention didn't matter when everything was burning.
Villagers ran past him, some coughing, others crying out for children, for parents, for anyone who could still be saved. Someone shoved him aside. Another threw a bucket of water that vanished into steam before touching the flames.
Kael stood frozen at the edge of the chaos, watching the world he knew collapse into cinders.
"Kael!"
He turned.
His mother stood at the end of the street, her silhouette framed by fire. Her long hair was streaked with ash, her face pale but determined.
"Come here!" she shouted. "We have to go—now!"
His legs refused to move. Guilt crushed him, heavier than stone.
"I did this," he whispered.
She didn't hesitate. She ran toward him, grabbing his shoulders.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice shaking. "This is not who you are. Do you hear me? You are not a monster."
Another explosion echoed nearby as a roof collapsed. Heat washed over them like a wave.
"Mother, I—"
The ground shook. A burning beam crashed down between them.
He was thrown back, hitting the dirt hard. When he looked up, his heart stopped.
The flames had swallowed her.
"NO!"
Kael screamed as the fire surged higher, a twisted crown of light around her last standing shape. He reached out instinctively, power flaring from his core.
For a split second, the fire obeyed.
It parted—just enough for him to see her eyes.
She smiled.
Then the heat vanished from his control, and everything collapsed into blinding light.
He woke to the sound of waves.
Cold salt air stung his lungs as he coughed, sitting up abruptly. The wooden floor beneath him creaked, unfamiliar. His clothes were still burned at the edges, his arms bandaged.
"You're awake."
The voice was calm, female. Kael turned his head slowly.
A girl with silver-blue hair stood near a small porthole, moonlight reflecting in her eyes. She wore a simple cloak, damp from the sea.
"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely.
"On the Ember Tide," she replied. "You were drifting on a piece of wreckage. Brakka pulled you aboard."
Kael looked around. A cramped cabin. A lantern swaying with the ship's motion.
"The village…" he muttered.
Her gaze softened. "We passed the smoke from miles away."
His hands curled into fists. The warmth inside him stirred again, like a sleeping beast.
"I killed them," he said.
She shook her head gently. "You survived."
"That's worse."
She didn't argue.
"My name is Lira," she said after a pause. "We're heading east, beyond the Storm Reaches. You're safe here—for now."
"For now?" he echoed.
She hesitated. "People will come looking. Fire like yours leaves a trail."
Kael closed his eyes. The screams returned in his mind.
He couldn't stay. He couldn't go back. The sea was the only place left.
On the deck, the night stretched endlessly, waves glowing under the moon. The Ember Tide cut through the dark water like a blade.
Kael stood near the railing, gripping it as the wind tugged at his cloak.
Brakka, the captain, approached—a towering man with stone-gray eyes and scars across his arms.
"Fire boy," he said. "You're not the first to run from ashes. You won't be the last."
Kael didn't respond.
Brakka leaned beside him. "The sea doesn't judge. But it remembers."
Kael watched the horizon. Somewhere beyond it, answers waited. Or death.
Either was better than staying.
Behind him, the sails snapped in the wind.
And in the distance, unseen by all, something ancient stirred—drawn by the echo of uncontrolled flame.
The journey had begun.