They called it the Scorched Tree in old texts — but when Elliot saw it with his own eyes, he realized that was a lie.
It wasn't a tree.
It was a grave marker.
A monument of petrified flame twisted into roots, rising like a fist toward the heavens, blackened and cracked with gold veins of sleeping power.
The place stank of old gods.
Not the clean scent of divine presence — but the smoke of something that once was and no longer should be.
Kaelith stared at it in awe. "This is where Vaelion fell?"
Elliot said nothing.
He felt it. In his bones. In the back of his teeth.
The memory was waiting for him.
---
When he touched the bark, the world cracked.
Not around him — within him.
---
He was no longer Elliot.
He was Vaelion.
He stood on the battlefield of the First Dusk War, chest torn open by betrayal. The gods circled above like vultures, golden spears in their hands.
And yet, he smiled.
Because at his feet knelt Eli'ar — his creation. His mirror. His flame. A weapon no god could unmake.
> "They'll come for you," Vaelion whispered, bleeding light. "They will fear your mercy more than they ever feared my fire."
> "Then let them burn."
> "No."
"Let them remember who lit the match."
---
The vision shattered.
Elliot gasped, falling back. Kaelith caught him.
His eyes glowed faint gold and ember-red.
> "You saw it?" she whispered.
> "I was him," Elliot breathed. "I felt everything. His pain. His purpose."
He gripped the earth beneath him.
> "I'm not just carrying the flame anymore."
> "You are it," Kaelith finished for him.
---
The ground beneath them pulsed once.
A heartbeat.
Then the bark of the Scorched Tree split open with a crack like thunder — revealing a hidden core of still-living fire.
And from that fire floated a shard — jagged, humming.
It hovered in front of Elliot.
> "A piece of him," Kaelith whispered.
> "No," Elliot said. "A gift."
He reached out.
The shard pierced his chest like a blade — and the flame welcomed it.
No screams. No struggle.
Just a shift.
His Mark burned white-gold for a moment… then turned black around the edges.
Something inside him had changed forever.
---
That night, Kaelith didn't speak.
She simply watched him as he stood alone by the tree, staring at the sky.
Not as a boy.
Not as a chosen one.
But as someone no longer waiting for permission to fight back.
---