The ancient ruin stood silent under the glow of the twin moons, its charred stones humming with dormant power. Irisen, Elyra, Kareth, and Thalen gathered at the centre—a circular altar carved with intricate runes that pulsed with fiery light.
Thalen stepped forward, chanting in a language lost to time, his voice weaving through the flames like a melody. The brand in Irisen's hand grew hotter, burning brighter, as the ritual began.
"Irisen," Thalen intoned, "place your hand upon the altar and open your heart to the flame. Only through surrender will you master the shard's true power."
Irisen took a deep breath and laid the brand against the ancient stone. A surge of heat shot through him, fierce but not painful. The flames around them rose higher, wrapping him in a swirling inferno that did not burn but embraced.
Suddenly, his vision blurred. The flames parted, revealing a shifting landscape of memories and visions—both his own and those as ancient as the fire itself.
He saw a young Ignarion, radiant and proud, forging the world with his burning hands. Then the god's fury as he was cast down, flames turning from life-giving warmth to destructive blaze.
And then, Irisen's fears: faces of those he loved in danger, cities reduced to ash, and himself consumed by the uncontrollable fire within.
But alongside the fear, there were flashes of hope—moments of courage, friendship, and the possibility of rebirth.
A voice echoed in the fiery vision, soft yet powerful. "The flame is not your enemy, Irisen. It is your truth."
Tears mingled with sweat on Irisen's brow. "I… I accept it. I accept the flame—not as a curse, but as a part of me."
The fire around him pulsed and then calmed, retreating into the brand, which now glowed with steady warmth.
Thalen lowered his voice, reverent. "You have taken the first step. The flame will no longer control you; you will guide it."
Elyra stepped forward, eyes shining. "We've only just begun. But now, the real battle lies ahead—against those who seek to use the flame's power to destroy."
Kareth grinned, gripping his sword. "Then let them come."
As they exited the ruin, the dawn broke over the Cinderwilds, bathing the scorched earth in golden light. Irisen felt the Brand's heat as a steady companion—a promise of power tempered by newfound resolve.
The path ahead was still fraught with danger, but Irisen was no longer the ember barely flickering in the wind.
He was the blazing heart of a forgotten realm—ready to ignite change or burn it all to ash.