The Reborn Knight: Flames of Destiny

The Aftermath

The clearing was dead silent.

The Abyssborn were gone. Unmade.

Not burned. Not even ashes remained.

Lyria was still staring at the empty space where they had stood. She hadn't moved since the fire consumed them. Her expression was blank, but her fingers were clenched so tight around her dagger's hilt that her knuckles had turned white.

Cain, in contrast, exhaled like he had just watched a street performance. "Well. That's new." He nudged a boot against the blackened earth. "Not even a corpse to loot. Kind of a shame."

I barely heard them. My pulse was still pounding, my hands trembling at my sides. I had done that.

It hadn't been normal fire.

It had erased them.

I ran a shaking hand through my hair. My scalp felt damp, but not from sweat. When I pulled my fingers away, black dust coated them. Ash? No. Not ash. Something thinner. Lighter.

Lyria finally spoke, her voice colder than I had ever heard it.

"What the hell did you just do?"

I swallowed hard. "I don't know."

Cain clicked his tongue. "Wrong answer, prince."

He stepped closer, gaze sharp. "You didn't just kill them. You didn't just burn them." His golden eyes flickered in the dim light. "You erased them. Like they never existed."

His words sent a chill through me.

Because I knew he was right.

Something about that fire had felt different. It hadn't just been heat. It had been consumption.

And the worst part?

It had felt… easy.

Lyria's Breaking Point

Lyria exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "This isn't right."

Her stance had shifted—not just tense, but defensive. Like she was standing near something too dangerous.

Like she was afraid of me.

I opened my mouth, but she wasn't looking at me anymore. Her gaze snapped to Cain, accusatory and sharp. "Did you know this would happen?"

Cain raised a brow. "If I did, don't you think I'd have charged you extra?"

Lyria wasn't amused. She took a step back, still gripping her dagger, her muscles tight as if she was one breath away from drawing it.

I felt something crack in my chest.

"Lyria—"

Her eyes snapped back to me, and for the first time since we met, I saw genuine fear in them.

"Tell me the truth, Arin," she said quietly. "What are you turning into?"

The words hit harder than I expected.

I didn't have an answer.

And Lyria saw that.

She exhaled, looking away. Like she had just confirmed something she didn't want to believe.

She turned. "We need to keep moving."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Cain let out a low chuckle. "That girl doesn't trust you anymore, prince."

I clenched my jaw. "And you do?"

Cain's smirk deepened. "Oh no. I never did."

I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. Whatever had happened tonight, I couldn't afford to break now.

I followed Lyria into the dark.

Echoes of the Past

We walked in silence.

The further we moved from the clearing, the colder the air became. The dense trees loomed around us, stretching upward like blackened ribs in the corpse of the forest.

Lyria stayed ahead, keeping distance between us.

Cain was behind me, which was worse.

I glanced at him. "You're awfully quiet."

Cain shrugged. "Just thinking."

"That's dangerous."

He smirked. "Wouldn't want you getting lonely."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair—only to feel that same strange, weightless dust. I frowned, rubbing my fingers together.

The sensation sent a cold shiver down my spine.

Not ash.

Something else.

I shook it off. "What were those things?"

Cain let out a thoughtful hum. "Abyssborn? Failed magic users. Burned out. Consumed. Not common, but not exactly new."

I frowned. "That's not what I meant."

Cain's grin sharpened. "Ah. You mean why they were hunting you?"

The memory sent ice through my veins. The way they had stopped. The way their hollow eyes had locked onto me.

"Because they weren't just after blood," I muttered. "They were after my fire."

Cain didn't deny it.

A strange, unsettling silence stretched between us.

Then he finally said, "Congratulations, prince. You've officially become prey."

I stopped walking.

Cain walked past me, unbothered. "You thought the Inquisition was your biggest problem?" He gave a sharp laugh. "You're a walking bonfire. Anything that feeds on magic? On power? You just rang the dinner bell."

The realization landed like a blow.

My magic hadn't just saved us tonight.

It had made me a target.

The Hunter in the Dark

A sound cracked through the trees.

Not a howl.

Not footsteps.

Something slow. Deliberate.

Cain stopped walking. Lyria froze mid-step.

We weren't alone.

My heartbeat slammed against my ribs. Not again.

The thing in the shadows wasn't hiding. It was watching.

A faint glow flickered through the trees. Not fire. Not natural light.

Runes.

I knew before I saw it.

The Inquisition had found us.

Cain sighed dramatically. "Well. That didn't take long."

Lyria's hands curled around her daggers, her knuckles pale. "We can't fight them. Not now."

I swallowed hard, forcing the fire in my chest to stay dormant. If I used it, I'd be giving them exactly what they wanted.

Cain stretched his arms lazily. "I'd suggest running, but…"

A second rune flared in the distance. A trap.

My stomach twisted. We were surrounded.

The figures in the shadows began moving closer, the glow of their runes painting them in unnatural light.

A low voice cut through the night.

"Arin, the Forgotten Prince," the lead inquisitor murmured, stepping into view. His robes were edged in silver, his gauntlets humming with anti-magic runes. He smiled—but his eyes were dead.

"You've been a hard one to track."

Lyria's breathing hitched. Cain tensed beside me.

I forced myself to meet the inquisitor's gaze. I wouldn't run. Not this time.

The man's smile widened. "We have so much to talk about."