Lioran didn't sleep like other children.
Each night, the ember in his chest whispered — not words, but images: a door of obsidian, a woman with a crown of falling stars, and a realm where time walked backwards.
On the seventh night, he woke screaming.
Aran rushed to him. But when he reached for his son, he saw something impossible: the flame in Lioran's eyes had turned silver.
"Father," the boy said, not in fear — but in wonder. "I saw where the first flame came from."
Aran froze.
No one had ever spoken of the First Flame in more than legend. Even the World-Flame was a shadow of it.
And now… it was dreaming through their son.