Chapter 8: A Burning Path
The days passed in a blur of grueling training. Eryn drilled Kaylen relentlessly, pushing him to the brink of exhaustion as he practiced wielding the Ember Core's power. Each session felt like a battle, not just against the artifact's consuming nature but against himself—his doubts, his fears, his limits.
"Again," Eryn barked as Kaylen struggled to maintain a small flame hovering above his palm. The ember flickered, then extinguished, leaving only the faint hum of the Core in his chest.
"I'm trying!" Kaylen snapped, his voice hoarse from frustration. "It's not like I can just flip a switch and make it work!"
Eryn stepped closer, their shadowed face unreadable. "You think this is about trying? Power doesn't care about effort. It demands control, discipline, and sacrifice. The Core will take as much as you give it—maybe more. You need to show it that you're in charge."
Kaylen gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as the Ember Core pulsed faintly. He closed his eyes, drawing on the warmth within. Slowly, the flame returned, brighter this time, steady but fragile.
"Good," Eryn said, their voice softening slightly. "Now hold it. Don't force it—guide it."
Kaylen focused, his breathing slow and measured. The flame danced in his hand, its light casting long shadows across the warehouse floor. He could feel the strain building, a faint tug in the back of his mind, but he held steady. For the first time, he felt like he wasn't just borrowing the Core's power—he was shaping it.
---
That night, as Kaylen lay on a makeshift cot in the corner of the warehouse, exhaustion pulled at him. His muscles ached, his mind was heavy, and yet he couldn't sleep. The Core's hum was a constant presence, a reminder of the weight he now carried.
He rolled onto his side, staring at the faint glow of the artifact where it rested on a nearby crate. "What are you?" he muttered. "Why me?"
The Core gave no answer, its glow steady and indifferent.
---
The next morning, Eryn introduced a new layer of training: movement. "Power without precision is a liability," they explained. "You need to move while maintaining control. In a fight, you won't have time to stand still and focus."
Kaylen frowned, already dreading the challenge. "And how do you expect me to do that?"
Eryn smirked faintly. "By throwing you into the fire."
They motioned toward a series of crude obstacles they had constructed from the debris scattered around the warehouse: overturned crates, rusted pipes, and broken beams. "You're going to run this course while maintaining a flame. If it goes out, you start over."
Kaylen stared at the makeshift gauntlet, disbelief etched on his face. "You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Eryn replied, crossing their arms. "Start."
Reluctantly, Kaylen summoned a small flame and began to move through the course. The first few steps were simple enough, but as he climbed over a pile of crates, the flame wavered. He paused, steadying himself, but the delay cost him—Eryn tossed a metal rod at his feet, forcing him to stumble forward.
"What the hell?!" Kaylen shouted, nearly losing the flame.
"You think the Hunters are going to play fair?" Eryn called back. "Keep moving!"
Gritting his teeth, Kaylen pushed on, his movements growing more frantic as the course became increasingly complex. He vaulted over a broken beam, ducked under a low-hanging pipe, and nearly slipped on a pile of loose rubble. All the while, the flame danced precariously in his hand, threatening to vanish at any moment.
By the time he reached the end, his chest was heaving, and sweat dripped from his brow. The flame flickered but held steady, its light a small victory in the dim warehouse.
"Not bad," Eryn said, nodding approvingly. "But you'll need to be faster—and stronger—if you want to survive out there."
Kaylen collapsed onto a crate, his limbs trembling. "You know," he panted, "I'm starting to think you enjoy torturing me."
Eryn chuckled. "You'll thank me when you're alive to complain about it."
---
That evening, as the warehouse grew quiet, Eryn approached Kaylen with a more serious expression. "You're improving," they said, "but you're not ready yet. The Hunters won't stop, and the longer you stay in one place, the more danger you're in."
Kaylen frowned. "So what do we do?"
Eryn hesitated, then pulled a folded map from their cloak. "There's someone who might be able to help you. An old associate of mine. They know more about the Core than anyone else."
"Who are they?" Kaylen asked.
"They go by Solas," Eryn replied. "A rogue Archivist who's been studying ancient artifacts for years. If anyone can help you understand the Core's true nature, it's them."
Kaylen's brow furrowed. "And where do I find this Solas?"
Eryn tapped the map. "The Wastes. A dangerous place, even without the Core's influence. If you go there, you'll need to be prepared."
Kaylen looked at the map, his resolve hardening. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"No," Eryn said, their voice low. "But if you want to survive—and if you want to fight back—this is the path you have to take."
Kaylen nodded, determination flickering in his eyes like the flame he now controlled. "Then let's do it."
Eryn gave a faint smile. "Good. We leave at dawn."