The winds howled through the darkened forest, carrying the bitter scent of snow and something ancient—something old enough to chill the bones.
Samuel stumbled through the underbrush, his feet crunching on frozen leaves and brittle branches. He didn't know why he had come out here.
There was no clear reason for this trek into the wilderness, only a nagging restlessness he couldn't shake. It felt as if the air itself was pushing him forward, drawing him deeper into the forest's cold embrace.
The soft, constant whisper of the wind was the only sound around him, carrying with it a strange, uncomfortable pull—an urge to keep moving, to escape something he couldn't name.
But escape from what? The house? The memories? Himself?
There were no answers. Only a vague sense that he needed to go further.
He was far from the warmth of the hearth now, and the forest pressed in around him like the walls of a forgotten tomb. The snow, falling in a gentle but relentless stream, coated the ground and his clothes. A biting chill settled in his bones, but somehow, he didn't mind. The cold felt familiar, as if it had always been there, as if it was the one thing he could rely on.
Suddenly, a shape darted from the corner of his vision. He froze, eyes wide, muscles stiffened. The snow beneath his feet crunched again, but this time it was heavier—a shape, hulking and fast, emerged from between the trees.
It was massive, towering over him, its eyes glowing a malevolent red in the fading light.
A beast.
The creature's fur was dark, matted with snow, but its eyes—those eyes—shone with an unnatural fire, and it was heading straight toward him.
Samuel's breath hitched in his chest. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even think. His limbs felt too heavy, as if the weight of his body didn't belong to him, but to someone else.
Then it came closer.
The beast lunged, its massive jaws snapping shut just inches from his face, but Samuel didn't even see it coming. It was instinct, a raw survival instinct, that kicked in.
He swung his arms up—he didn't know why, he didn't even think about it—and then a rush of heat flared around him.
Fire.
The beast recoiled, snarling, its fur sizzling where the flames licked at it, but it didn't back down. Samuel could feel the heat in his hands, spreading outward, surging in a wave.
He didn't know how he was doing it, didn't know why it was happening, but the fire roared, wild and uncontrolled.
The creature growled in frustration, charging again, its claws swiping through the air. Samuel stumbled back, the fire spilling out of him in a desperate burst, but it wasn't enough. The creature was relentless.
Panicking, he reached forward with his hands, trying to control the fire, to stop it, but it only flared brighter. The beast's snarls grew louder, its eyes fixed on him with an unnatural hunger.
Then, something strange happened.
The flames shifted. They bent and curved in the air like they had a will of their own, forming a barrier between him and the creature. The fire responded to his thoughts—almost as if it were his to command.
The beast hesitated.
Samuel took a step back, confusion flooding through him. The fire was hot, yes, but it didn't feel like something he was controlling. It felt as though it was inside of him, something ancient, powerful, and far beyond his understanding. The ember that had been pulsing faintly within him now flared, burning brighter than before.
He reached out, but this time, it wasn't instinct. It was a desperate need to stop the fire from consuming him, from consuming everything around him. He focused on the creature, on the danger it represented, and the flame lashed out, shooting toward the beast in a sharp, focused burst.
The creature let out a horrific screech, its body engulfed by the blaze. It flailed in the snow, thrashing, but it was already too late. The fire had pierced its side, and it collapsed in a heap, smoldering in the snow.
The forest fell silent.
Samuel stood there, chest heaving, his hands still glowing faintly with the embers of the flames. The world felt strange—unnervingly still. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from the creature's charred remains.
The power had surged through him like an uncontrollable force, like something from another world, and he had barely kept hold of it.
But now, there was only silence.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, shivering despite the warmth still curling through his hands. The snow had stopped falling for a moment, the world holding its breath in the aftermath of the battle.
Samuel didn't understand what had happened, or why he had been able to do that. His body trembled, but not from fear—something else, something far more profound.
The ember inside him was still pulsing, deep and rhythmic, as if it was alive. And though the immediate danger had passed, the uneasy feeling that he wasn't alone in the woods persisted. It was a gnawing feeling in his gut, a sense that there was something more, something waiting.
The fire. The ember. It had come from him, but it had felt like it belonged to something else, something far older than he was. Was this his power? Was this why he felt different, why everything felt out of place?
But he couldn't know, not yet. The truth of it—whatever it was—seemed too vast to understand.
The wind picked up again, carrying with it the faintest hint of something that seemed... ancient. The trees swayed, their branches heavy with the weight of snow, and Samuel, despite the battle, despite the fire that had surged through him, felt the cold seep back into his bones.
He had to go back.
But even as he turned to leave, the ember inside of him pulsed once more, a deep, resonant beat that seemed to echo in his chest. Something in the forest seemed to stir.
And it wasn't over.