Chapter 3: The Flame of Cursed Blood

The Flame of Cursed Blood

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> “Some are born in light…

Others rise from the ashes of darkness —

Forged not by fate, but by fire.”

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🔥 The Val’Kareth Clan — Those Bound by Flame

Deep in the ancient lands of Narezia, there existed a powerful bloodline feared across continents —

The Val’Kareth Clan, masters of the forbidden Voidflame, a fire that scorches not just the body, but the soul.

In this clan, purity of the bloodline was everything.

But one among them, the proud and powerful Serenya Val’Kareth, broke that sacred rule…

By falling in love with a common man — Kael Thorne.

> “You have defiled the name of Val’Kareth.

You are no longer one of us.”

Stripped of her status and cast out, Serenya chose exile for love.

She and Kael started a humble life in the distant village of Dravaria, where Kael worked in the stables of a local noble.

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🌑 The Prophecy of the Black Flame Star

> “When the Black Flame burns across the sky,

A soul shall be born —

Neither god, nor demon —

But one that shall bring both to their knees.”

The night Shaho was born, the skies tore open —

And the Black Flame Star blazed above the heavens.

The elders whispered in fear.

A cursed star. A cursed child.

Or… a chosen one.

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🐉 The Watcher in the Dark

Unseen by the villagers, from the depths of the Shadowpine Forest,

A mysterious beast with eyes of the living void watched their small home…

It was no wild creature.

It was a Void Sentinel, sent by the Val’Kareth clan —

To ensure Serenya’s bloodline ended.

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🗡️ Virallion Val’Kareth – The Burning Law

Serenya’s elder brother —

The current head of the Val’Kareth clan.

A cruel wielder of Voidflame and guardian of blood purity.

> “That child is a stain on our lineage.

I will burn him from existence myself.”

The moment he learned of Serenya’s pregnancy,

Virallion dispatched assassins to erase the mistake…

But when they failed, he sent something worse: himself.

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⚔️ The Night of Fire – Attack on Dravaria

One moonless night, shadows moved silently through the village.

Flames rose suddenly from homes and fields. Screams echoed. Panic spread.

Dravaria was under attack.

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🛡️ Kael Thorne – The Fallen Knight Rises

As shadowed warriors stormed his home, Kael grabbed his long-forgotten sword.

> “I am Kael Thorne,

Former Golden Knight of the Ziyama Empire!

If you want my son… you’ll have to get through me!”

He stood alone — protecting Saranya and baby Shaho.

And he fought like a legend reborn.

But even legends bleed.

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💔 A Warrior’s Last Breath

Kael fought until his sword shattered and blood soaked his armor.

Saranya, wielding remnants of her Voidflame, incinerated many,

But she too fell — wounded and dying beside her child.

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🔪 The Betrayer’s Blade

Virallion finally stepped through the smoke and ruin.

He saw Saranya, broken, still clutching her infant son.

> “This… is your legacy?

Let me erase it for you.”

He unsheathed his Void fire Dagger —

A blade that burns the soul itself.

He stabbed baby Shaho in the chest.

The child did not cry.

His two deep blue eyes simply stared at him — wide, and eerily calm.

Then… silence.

Satisfied, Virallion turned and walked away,

believing the child was dead.

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🌌 Rebirth Through Fire — Power Awakens

Moments passed.

A hush fell over the ruined village.

Then suddenly —

A pulse.

A shockwave of blue light erupted from Shaho’s tiny body.

> “Activating: Divine Healing Core.”

“Unlocking: Regeneration Matrix.”

“Initializing: Absolute Survival Protocol.”

His chest healed. His breath returned.

His blue eyes lit up — no longer confused, but glowing with unknown power.

The baby was once considered cursed…

Had survived death itself.

But something inside had changed.

He had seen a loss. He had felt betrayal.

Now, he was no longer just alive.

He was awakened.

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🌒 — Born in Flames, Rising in Silence

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Ashes of Dravaria

> “A sect that cannot shield its own soil bleeds twice—once from the wound, and once from the shame.”

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Dawn over Ruins

First light revealed what midnight fire had hidden.

Dravaria—once a sleepy farming outpost of the Yen Jui Sect—lay gutted: blackened beams, collapsed wells, animal pens melted into slag.

For Yen Jui, losing even a back-water like Dravaria was a scar on its honor. The sect’s charter bound it to guard every hearth within its borders; the ashes said it had failed.

The Investigation Company

By noon dust clouds appeared on the southern road.

Sixteen riders in ash-gray lamellar dismounted at the village gate, banners drooping in the scorched air.

Rank Name Specialty

Captain Ryel Denmoor field-marshal Soul-signature triangulation

Lt. Ealisa Rayne veteran lancer Tactical forensics

Scholar Terra Arin arcane archivist Void-residue analysis

Brother Gareth Ironspine pugilist monk Survivors’ protection

(incognito) Prince Kaiven Jin Rhey 4th son of Yen Jui’s Grand-Master Diplomatic authority

They fanned out with a precision born of long border wars:

Terra scraped violet soot from a doorway; it fizzed, hissing like a live ember.

Ealisa buried a gauntlet into the soil, sniffed, and flinched. “Soul-scorch temperature. Voidflame for certain.”

Ryel closed his eyes; white glyphs crawled across his skin as he read lingering auras. He gagged. “This wasn’t pillage—it was surgical erasure. The killers knew every sleeping map of the village.”

Kaiven, face hidden by a silver half-mask, walked in silence. He stopped at the communal square, where the sect’s own emblem—an iron moon—lay warped and trampled.

> Kaiven (inner monologue): A symbol we swore to defend… twisted like tin. If Father hears of this, he will taste our disgrace before breakfast.

Shame stung more sharply than the smoke.

Questioning the Living

Only nine souls had survived: three grey-bearded farmers, two teenage herders, and four children pried from cellars.

Among them, an infant with startling blue eyes, wrapped in a half-burned cloak.

Brother Gareth set a gentle hand on a farmer’s shoulder.

> “Tell us, elder—what did you see?”

The man’s voice shook.

> “Lightning that screamed… fire that bled black… and soldiers in night-glass armor. They spoke one name—Val’Kareth—like it was a prayer.”

Across the square, Terra held the infant while Lysia Valeen (memory-mage) probed with a silver filament. The filament flashed, snapped, and recoiled.

> Lysia, whispering: “Impossible. The child’s spirit signature flat-lined—died—then rebooted itself.”

Kaiven: “Mark him. Protective custody. No touching.”

The order was soft yet absolute; even Ryel straightened.

Embers of Politics

Yen Jui was a modest sect: three fortresses, five thousand disciples, respected but hardly dominant.

Val’Kareth, by contrast, commanded city-states and void-mages that legends called “living cataclysms.”

For Yen Jui to accuse Val’Kareth openly would be to invite an avalanche.

Inside the ruined granary the officers gathered around a makeshift map—blood-stained parchment on an upturned barrel.

Burn trajectories mapped a V-shaped pincer; classic Val’Kareth breach tactic.

Every body bore precision heart scars—Voidfire daggers.

No loot taken. Pure extermination.

> Captain Ryel: “They weren’t after land. They were after someone.”

Ealisa: “Small settlement, ex-Golden-Knight registered among the dead… Maybe the target was his household.”

Kaiven: “Or the child that survived. Either way, Yen Jui bleeds in its own courtyard. We answer, or we’re finished.”

His words fell like iron filings—sparks in the gloom.

Adoption & Escape

Before dusk the survivors were escorted to the road north.

A widowed weaver, Mira Elowen, cradled the blue-eyed infant.

> Mira, to Kaiven: “If your sect cannot name him, I will. He will live as my son.”

Kaiven (quiet): “Guard him well. Shadows yet drift.”

They left for Elarindor, a hidden hamlet tucked beneath cedar cliffs—beyond the sect’s main trade arteries, safer, forgotten.

Kaiven watched them disappear between charred oaks, the infant’s azure gaze lingering like a question he could not yet voice.

A Prince’s Report

Night. Campfires flickered among skeletal frames of houses.

Kaiven unrolled a raven-sealed parchment, wrote in tight strokes:

> “To Grand-Master Jin Rhey,

Dravaria overrun, 94 dead, 9 survivors. Conclusive Voidflame traces \= Val’Kareth strike team. Motive unknown; suspect blood-hunt.

Recovered infant exhibiting post-mortem reanimation. Potential anomaly bound to Black-Flame prophecy.

Request council sanction for covert inquiry. Public retaliation impossible; strategic suicide. Recommend shadow route through diplomatic channels, scout Val’Kareth interior, neutralize threat.

—Kaiven”

He sealed it with molten wax that smelled of pine and guilt.

> Kaiven (to the night): “We protect or we perish. The mighty may ignore the weak—but the weak remember everything.”

And in the silent rubble, the wind carried sparks toward distant horizons—where greater fires waited to be born.

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🌒 End of Chapter – Honor in the Ashes

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