Previously in Echoes of the Immortal Flame…
Aryan, the boy with a fire that once shook the heavens, has returned—reborn, hidden, and burning with quiet rage. In the shadows of Crimson Willow Sect, he begins again, hiding his true strength, watching, waiting.
But something ancient stirs beneath the sect grounds—a whisper of black flame, a forgotten presence… and secrets that even time tried to bury.
The flame has been lit. The pieces are moving.
And the past… is coming back for him.
---
Aryan sat beneath the old willow tree, its red leaves rustling gently in the breeze. His eyes were closed, but his mind was far from still. Each breath he took stirred something deeper—something older than even his previous life.
The world above was calm.
But the world below was not.
Deep within the earth, beyond mortal sight and sound, an ancient presence shifted.
At first, Aryan had dismissed it as a remnant of spiritual energy lingering from the sect's long history. But the more he focused… the clearer it became.
> "It's watching me," he thought.
No cultivator should have been able to hide from him, not in this realm. Yet whatever this thing was—it existed in silence, cloaked in shadows not made by light.
A low, almost musical hum echoed in his ears. Faint. Distant. Not sound exactly… more like a whisper carried by fire itself.
Then it spoke.
Not in words, but in feeling.
Grief. Rage. Recognition.
Aryan's eyes opened. The flame within his palm flickered black for a second—then vanished.
> "Impossible…"
Only one kind of flame had ever matched his in power: the Blackfire of the Abyss Sect, destroyed thousands of years ago… by his own hands.
Or so he'd believed.
He rose to his feet slowly, scanning the trees, the stones, the earth beneath. Nothing stirred. No presence revealed itself. But the feeling lingered.
> "You remember me," Aryan whispered, voice cold. "And you want me to remember you too."
Behind him, leaves rustled again. A breeze touched the back of his neck—but it was warm. Too warm.
He turned swiftly, but the path was empty.
Yet etched into the bark of the tree behind him was a symbol—a spiral of fire, burned so cleanly it smoldered faintly.
The mark of the Blackfire.
And underneath it, a single word scorched into the wood:
> "Again."
Aryan narrowed his eyes.
> "So be it," he muttered. "If the past wishes to crawl from its grave… I will be the one to bury it."
He turned away, but the flames in his heart were no longer calm.
The shadows had started to move.
And something far older than this life had begun to wake.
---
Author Note – R.E. Solcrest:
Things are getting mysterious, aren't they? Who—or what—is watching Aryan from beneath the earth? The Blackfire was supposed to be long gone. But some flames… never die.
If you're enjoying the twists, don't forget to comment and add to your library! Your support means the world. More secrets will be revealed in the next chapter—so stay with me, kindred flame.