The Palace of Dust loomed before them like a monument to forgotten kings. Once, its towers had stretched into the clouds, gleaming with polished stone and banners of gold. Now, centuries of neglect had reduced it to crumbling walls and hollowed halls, each step echoing like a warning.


Elijah felt the pendant pulsing fiercely against his chest. The crystal from the elder burned warmly in his pocket. Somewhere deep inside, he could feel a heartbeat — not his own, but older, heavier, full of fire.


Kael led the way through the grand archway, eyes scanning the shadows. “Stay close,” he whispered. “This place isn’t abandoned. Not really.”


They stepped into the main hall. Dust rose in motes, stirred by their footsteps. Broken statues of long-dead monarchs lined the walls, their stony faces twisted in silent screams. At the far end, a pool of blackened water reflected the dim light of the shattered roof.


A voice spoke from the darkness. Deep. Slow. Eternal.


“Elijah of Ashvale… Flame-Bearer…”


The air shimmered, and a figure rose from the water. Its form was humanoid, yet entirely composed of fire, gold, and smoke. Eyes like molten metal fixed on Elijah.


“The first trial begins,” it said. “To claim the dragons’ favor, you must prove your heart and your will. Fail, and the fire will consume you.”


Elijah’s hand went to his sword. “I don’t even know what you want from me!”


The flame-figure extended a hand, and suddenly, the hall itself seemed to shift. The statues’ faces melted into shadowy shapes, the floor beneath them became molten rock, and the ceiling vanished into a sky of burning stars.


“You carry the blood of dragons,” the figure said. “But blood alone does not make a king. To walk the path of fire, you must master it — and master yourself.”


The trial began.


Shadows sprang from the molten floor, taking forms of beasts and warriors, clawing at Elijah with blazing hands and fiery teeth. Kael drew his crossbow and began picking off the smaller shapes, but even he could not touch the largest.


Elijah raised the sword. Flames erupted along its edge, spilling outward like a living river of fire. He swung, deflecting the shadow-beasts. The blade pulsed in sync with his heartbeat, as if urging him to push harder, to burn brighter.


But the fire resisted him. Each swing that came from fear scorched him from within. Each attack driven by anger threatened to consume him entirely.


The flame-figure watched silently. “The fire obeys not the sword, nor the hand, nor the heart filled with hate. Obey your truth, Elijah. Let it burn from within.”


Elijah faltered. He dropped the sword for a moment, trembling. The shadows closed in.


And then he remembered the elder’s words: “The flame has awakened inside you… it answers to your soul.”


He closed his eyes. Letting the fear leave his chest, he breathed in, deep and steady. He thought of Ashvale, of the ruined village, of the people who had trusted him, and of the dragons waiting beyond the mountains. He didn’t fight the fire — he welcomed it.


When he opened his eyes, the flames along the blade no longer burned outward. They flowed through him, wrapping around his body, bright and warm, yet controlled.


With a single motion, Elijah swung the sword — not to strike, but to command. The shadows shrieked and dissolved into sparks. The molten floor calmed, and the sky of burning stars faded into the familiar ceiling of stone.


The flame-figure smiled. “You have learned the first truth of fire: it obeys the heart that dares to be whole. Remember this, Flame-Bearer. The path ahead is darker. The trials harder. But you now walk it not as a boy, but as the spark of a king.”


Exhausted but resolute, Elijah lifted the sword. Kael stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder.


“Not bad, farm boy,” Kael said. “You’re not dead. Yet.”


Elijah allowed himself a small, tired smile. “Yet.”


From the shadows, the figure of fire whispered one last word:


“Go. The dragons await.”


And with that, the Palace of Dust was silent once more.


But Elijah knew — the first trial was only the beginning