The dream felt more real than any I'd ever experienced.
I stood at the edge of a cliff, peering down into an endless abyss—a void so vast and so black that it seemed to swallow all light and thought. No stars, no moon, no landmarks. Just an unending darkness stretching out in every direction, drawing me in, whispering promises of eternity. The silence was deafening.
And then… I felt it—a presence behind me, a sensation like a chill breath on the back of my neck.
I turned, and there he stood.
The figure before me defied understanding. He was made of black flames that shifted and coiled around a human-like form, but that was only the beginning. One moment, he bore the silhouette of a man; the next, wings sprouted from his back—two, then four—each feather burning with that same ethereal fire. As I stared, the horns on his head twisted and transformed, morphing into massive antlers that branched out like a gnarled tree. Then they receded, replaced by a halo of dark light. Even his body changed: muscles bulging, shrinking, limbs elongating and warping, always shifting, always becoming something else.
But what remained constant were his eyes—two pools of endless void that seemed to hold the weight of a universe within them.
"Who—" I began, my voice catching in my throat. "Who are you?"
The figure smiled, a smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Welcome to the Void, Adrian," he said, his voice a low, rumbling echo that reverberated through my bones. "Welcome to my domain."
My mind raced as I tried to process what was happening. This place… this feeling… It was overwhelming. And yet, I felt something familiar in his presence—something I'd sensed before. "You… you're Khaelus," I breathed, the words barely a whisper.
"Very good," he murmured approvingly. "Yes, I am Khaelus, the Abyssal Lord. The one your world calls the God of Ruin."
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to look at him directly. The flames around his body shifted again, flickering faster, casting strange shadows that danced along the void. He lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the air as if beckoning me to look behind him. "But I am more than what you see here. Look, Adrian. Look into the depths."
His words sent a chill through me, but I obeyed. I turned my gaze back toward the darkness—and that's when I saw it. At first, it was just a vague shape in the distance, a massive shadow in the blackness. But I needed to see more. Slowly, I gathered mana in my left eye, feeling it burn and pulse as I forced it to see beyond the veil.
What I saw made my blood run cold.
There, in the heart of the Void, lay something huge. A creature—no, a being—so vast that it seemed to blend into the darkness itself. Its body was draped in scales the color of midnight, each one shimmering faintly with a light that seemed to pulse like the heartbeat of a dying star. Massive wings, larger than cities, were pinned to its sides by chains of radiant light, glowing with a golden intensity that hurt to look at. Its head alone was as large as a mountain, crowned with a forest of jagged horns that curved upward like the spires of some great cathedral. The creature's eyes were closed, but even in its dormant state, its presence radiated power. Divine, overwhelming power.
A dragon—a black, divine dragon.
My heart hammered in my chest as I took a stumbling step back. "What… what is that?"
"That, boy," Khaelus whispered, his voice softer now, "is me. My true form. My true essence, chained and bound in this forsaken abyss."
I stared at him, then back at the dragon, my mind struggling to comprehend. "But… why? Why are you chained like this?"
Khaelus's expression darkened, the flames around him flickering violently. "Because my sister feared me," he growled. "She believed I would usurp her and take her precious Golden Order for myself. She could not kill me, so she did the next best thing: she trapped me here, in this prison of shadows and silence."
He turned back to the dragon, his gaze distant, almost wistful. "For eons, I've been like this. Watching, waiting… She bound me because she couldn't bear the idea that I might one day defy her. But the truth, Adrian, is that I never sought her throne. I never wanted to conquer her world." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I simply wanted to be free."
Something in his words struck me, something raw and aching. Despite the terror I felt in his presence, I found myself stepping closer. "Then… Why me? Why talk to me at all?"
Khaelus turned to face me again, his gaze piercing. "Because, Adrian… you carry a spark of my essence. A tiny, flickering ember of my power. You, who are trying so desperately to understand the darkness within you. I see potential in you, boy."
I swallowed, my throat dry. "Then please, make me your Falor! Let me grow and learn by your side, let me become your will on earth. Please let me support you, let me prove that I am worthy of the title."
A slow, almost sad smile spread across his face. "To become my Falor. Is a hard and dangerous path, if you so badly want to become my Falor then master the power that lies dormant within you. But to do that, you must first accept it. You must not fear it, or it will consume you."
"I—" I hesitated, looking down at my hands. The same hands that had wielded those cold, black flames against the automaton. The same hands that had almost destroyed an entire port… "But I—I can't control it. I'm scared of what I might—"
"Stop." His voice was firm, brooking no argument. "You can control it. The flame listens to you, responds to your will. The shadows bend to your call. But only if you believe you can wield them. Only if you make them yours."
I looked up, meeting his gaze. "And… how do I do that?"
Khaelus leaned closer, his form shifting once more—less monstrous now, more human. The flames around him dimmed, and for the first time, I saw something almost gentle in his expression. "The first step, Adrian, is to stop seeing it as a curse. It is not a force meant to destroy you. It is a gift—my gift. And like all gifts, it must be nurtured, not feared."
He reached out, his hand hovering just above my chest, where my heart pounded wildly. "Next time you call on the flame, feel its warmth. Don't fight it. Embrace it. Let it flow through you, shape it as you would a tool. Master it—and it will never betray you."
His hand dropped, and he stepped back, his gaze never leaving mine. "You are the one I have chosen, Adrian. And I will not let you fall."
I took a deep, shuddering breath, nodding slowly. "I… I'll try."
A faint, approving smile tugged at his lips. "Good." He turned away, his form beginning to dissolve back into the swirling darkness. "Remember, boy… I am with you. Always."
☉☉☉
I jolted awake, the lingering sensation of Khaelus's presence still heavy in my mind. The room was dark, the soft sounds of Elowen's and Saphira's steady breathing filling the space. I sat up slowly, the dream—or was it a vision?—echoing through my thoughts. My heart still pounded from what I'd seen, from the god's words that seemed to burn themselves into my soul.
Quietly, I slipped out of the small cabin, careful not to wake either of them. The ship creaked gently as I made my way to the deck, the night air cool and crisp against my skin. The stars above were fading, hints of dawn beginning to touch the horizon, casting a faint glow over the vast expanse of the ocean.
I needed to clear my head. To think.
Khaelus had said I could control the flame, that it was my gift—something I needed to master. But how? Every time I'd called on it before, it felt wild, chaotic, like a beast just waiting to devour me. Still, if I didn't learn to control it, I'd risk losing myself completely the next time I used it.
I took a deep breath, settling myself down cross-legged on the wooden deck, feeling the ship sway gently beneath me. Closing my eyes, I reached inward, searching for that tiny flicker of power. Slowly, I found it—the faint, fragile ember that Khaelus had pointed out in the void. It burned softly in the center of my chest, no larger than a matchstick flame, warm and waiting.
"Easy," I whispered to myself, focusing on the sensation. I reached out with my mind, nudging the flame gently. It responded, the warmth spreading ever so slightly, threading its way through my body. My limbs tingle as I let the power flow, careful not to push it too far, too fast. The last thing I needed was to lose control again.
Bit by bit, I guided the flame, letting it coat my muscles, my veins, the very tips of my fingers. It was like moving through a dark room with a tiny candle—every motion had to be precise, every shift measured. I clenched my fists, feeling the heat settle into my skin, but instead of the usual rush of power, I felt… calm. The flame didn't roar or rage. It just was. Steady. Controlled.
That's when I heard the sound of soft footsteps behind me.
My concentration broke, and before I could stop it, the flame flared—spreading up to my hair in a sudden burst of black fire. I gasped, scrambling to control it as I whipped around, my heart leaping to my throat.
Saphira stood there, her head tilted curiously, a faint smile playing on her lips. "What are you doing?" she asked lightly.
"Dammit!" I hissed, patting at my head in a panic. To my surprise, the flames didn't burn. They didn't even singe a single strand of my hair. I just… looked like a torch for a moment. As quickly as they'd flared up, the black flames faded, settling back into that tiny ember within me. "You scared the hell out of me!"
"Scared you?" she teased, her grin widening. "It's not like I jumped out at you. I just asked a question."
I glared at her, my pulse still racing. "What do you want, Saphira?"
She shrugged, her eyes gleaming in the dim light of dawn. "I needed to tell you something."
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Can't it wait until morning? I'm kind of in the middle of something here." I gestured vaguely, trying to calm the lingering energy still buzzing in my veins.
"No, not really," she said softly, her tone growing serious. "It's important, Adrian. There's… there's a prophecy."
A prophecy? I groaned inwardly, shaking my head. The last thing I needed right now was some vague, cryptic message about the future hanging over me. "I'm good," I said, standing up and rolling my shoulders. I needed to get moving, to burn off some of this tension. "You can keep your riddles. I've got enough on my mind."
Without waiting for a response, I dropped into a low stance, stretching out my arms. Then, I began a series of quick, sharp movements—punches, kicks, spins—each motion deliberate, each strike precise. I needed to focus, to ground myself. The power still hummed beneath my skin, but this time, it didn't feel out of control. It was mine.
Saphira watched silently for a moment, then sighed. "You're really not going to listen, are you?"
"Nope," I replied shortly, throwing a high kick that sliced through the air. I dropped into a crouch, then launched into a set of rapid jabs, feeling the power flow through my muscles. I needed to move. To let it out without losing control.
"Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But don't blame me if things get messy later."
I didn't respond, my focus entirely on my movements. Each punch, each kick sent tiny ripples of mana through my body, keeping the flame steady, keeping it contained. I knew she was still watching me, probably still waiting for me to change my mind, but I wasn't ready for more riddles or prophecies. Not now.
For now, all I needed was the rhythm of my own heartbeat, the steady flow of power through my veins, and the growing sense of control over the darkness within me. Khaelus's words echoed in my mind, a soft reminder of what I needed to achieve.
"Let it flow through you, shape it as you would a tool. Master it—and it will never betray you."
I gritted my teeth, pushing myself harder, sweat beading on my forehead. I would master it. I had to. Because if I didn't…
If I didn't, the next time I lost control, I might not be able to stop myself from burning everything to the ground.
I kept pushing, each strike more forceful than the last, feeling the heat of the flame coursing through me. My muscles burned with exertion, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. It was like something inside was driving me—an urge to master this power, to bend it to my will instead of letting it consume me.
With a sharp breath, I threw another punch, pouring more mana into the strike. I should have eased back. I should have stopped.
But I didn't.
The air around my fist crackled, the temperature spiking. Then—BOOM!
A massive roar erupted as a burst of black fire exploded from my fist, shooting into the sky. The force of it sent me stumbling back, my ears ringing as the flames tore through the early dawn sky, parting the clouds in a wide circle. The dark fire blazed upward, a twisted pillar of shadow and flame, swallowing the light and leaving a void in its wake.
For miles, the sky was split open, clouds evaporating in an instant. I could see the stars flickering through the gap, the horizon glowing faintly with the first light of dawn. It was beautiful. Terrifying, but beautiful.
And deafening.
"What the hell was that?!" Elowen's voice cut through the fading sound of the explosion. I turned to see her sprinting up onto the deck, her expression caught between panic and confusion. She skidded to a halt, eyes wide as she took in the lingering traces of flame still flickering in the sky.
Saphira was leaning against the railing, watching me with a raised eyebrow. She gestured lazily in my direction. "He's been trying to control his new powers," she said, her tone casual. As if I hadn't just nearly blown up the damn sky.
Elowen's gaze snapped to me, her worry clear. "Adrian, what were you thinking? You could've—"
"I'm sorry," I muttered, flexing my fingers as I reeled the mana back in, forcing it to settle once more. It fought me, the ember inside flaring like it was eager to be unleashed again. But I gritted my teeth, refusing to let it take over. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I just… lost focus."
Elowen shook her head, glancing at my bruised and battered hands. "You're going to destroy yourself if you keep this up," she said sharply. "You're pushing too hard."
"I'm fine," I insisted, ignoring the way my arms trembled with fatigue. I took a step back, trying to settle back into a stance, ready to keep going.
"No, you're not!" she snapped, stepping closer. "Adrian, stop training. That's an order."
I froze, looking into her eyes. She was serious. And she wasn't going to budge on this. I clenched my jaw, frustration boiling beneath the surface, but I nodded slowly. "Alright," I said quietly. "I'll stop."
Elowen's shoulders relaxed slightly, relief flickering in her gaze. "Good. You need to rest. You're—"
"I'm going to shower," I interrupted, turning on my heel before she could say more. My whole body ached, each bruise and scrape throbbing with every step. I made my way down below deck, each movement slow and deliberate.
The ship's corridors were dimly lit, the early morning light barely filtering in through the small portholes. I stumbled into my room, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and a towel before heading to the small, cramped shower room. It was the only one on the ship, barely large enough to stand in, but right now, I didn't care.
I needed to wash off the sweat, the blood, the lingering feeling of flame on my skin.
The water was freezing as I turned it on, but I welcomed it. I let it wash over me, drenching my hair and numbing the ache in my muscles. My breath hissed out between my teeth as the icy spray hit the bruises, but I didn't move. I just stood there, letting the water cascade over me, washing away the dirt and the pain.
Slowly, I reached up, fingers brushing the bandage still wrapped around my left eye. I'd forgotten about it in all the chaos. The wound should have still been healing, the skin raw and tender. But something… something felt different.
Carefully, I peeled the bandage away, bracing myself for the sight of a half-healed scar.
Instead, I found smooth skin.
I blinked, staring at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. The deep, jagged gash that had crossed my eye was gone, replaced by a thick, white scar running from my eyebrow to my cheek. but the skin was smooth and unbroken.
My eye, though…
It was no longer the amber I was used to. Instead, a hazy, light color stared back at me, almost ghostly. A pale, almost silvery hue that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. And through the center of it, a thin, dark scar bisected the iris itself.
My breath caught.
The iris of my right eye though seemed to have these specks of red in it, maybe I was just imagining it. J just a trick of the light, or the aftermath of using so much power in such a short time.
With a shuddering breath, I stepped back, turning away from the mirror. I couldn't think about this right now. I needed to focus. To get my head straight.
I finished my shower quickly, scrubbing the sweat and dirt from my skin before drying off and pulling on my fresh clothes. The ship creaked softly as I made my way back to my room, the floorboards swaying gently beneath my feet.
I needed to rest. To sleep. But as I lay down on the narrow bed, my mind kept spinning, thoughts racing back to the vision, to Khaelus's words, to the fire that still simmered deep within me.
And to the reflection in the mirror that looked just a little less familiar than it should have.