Kaelen Ardyn never meant to start a fire.
He only wanted to get warm.
It was a late-autumn evening, the kind where the cold sank into your bones and whispered that winter wasn’t far behind. The hearth in the corner of the barn glowed with faint embers, barely enough to warm his numb hands.
“Just a little spark,” he muttered, rubbing his palms together.
He reached out with a stick, poked the ashes—and the fire roared to life.
Not just a spark. Not just a flicker. It exploded in brilliant gold, orange, and—most strangely—blue.
Kaelen jumped back, heart thudding. His skin glowed. No—burned. He ripped his sleeve away and stared.
There it was again. That mark. A flame-shaped birthmark on his wrist. It pulsed like a heartbeat now, responding to the fire.
He had always hidden it. His mother had warned him to.
"Never show anyone, Kael. Promise me."
She never explained why. And she never got the chance. The fever took her when he was nine.
Now, eight years later, the mark awakened—and someone was watching.
From the shadows of the barn, a tall man stepped forward, dressed in a long black cloak. His eyes weren’t kind. They were sharp, predatory.
“I saw what you did,” the man said. “You lit it without flint. Without spark.”
Kaelen backed up.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
The man raised his hand.
Black smoke coiled from his fingertips.
“No point pretending. The Flame recognizes its own.” His voice was low. Dangerous. “The Queen will want to know.”
Kaelen turned and ran.
Behind him, fire met shadow.
And so began the hunt.
YOU ARE READING
The Ember Throne
FantasyWhen fire fades, shadows rise-and only a heart split in two can save the world. Kaelen never wanted to be chosen. But when a dying flame sparks inside him, he's thrust into a crumbling world where fire is more than power-it's life itself. The Tree o...
