The flames of that underground basement jail remained steady, neither quelling nor expanding. The company remained there for several minutes before the Warden sparked a thought, mentally gathering the three young men. "I'm certain now. This person is the child of the black Phoenix."

This older man dropped to one knee and introduced, "I am Hughton, an Expert rank adventurer. I will do all I can to ensure your safety."

The two guards followed suit: first, the taller Ravenour with dark hair and scales, who introduced himself as Gideon, and then the light-haired Ravenour, Tristen, who was revealed to be a long-standing friend. Vin glanced at them, presented his name, and then inquired, "Why me? There are so many of your people, so why would your God choose me."

Hughton shook his head. The answer was far beyond his mortal knowledge; however, he did know of old legends. He sat across from Vin, revealing a story passed down for generations through the Ravenour civilization. There was a great war over 300 years ago before their planet Vulcorath was assimilated into Auroraan. Their red planet, which none of the current Ravenors had been alive to see, was one of continuous loss and struggle; myths said it was because of the constant bloodshed that the atmosphere was dyed red.

Their ancestors had spent centuries at war with dragons, creatures many times their size. They just had their weapons and the courage bestowed on them by their God, a symbol of rebirth and hope, a red Phoenix. The fight was always against them; entire lineages were erased, and civilizations were razed. When Ravenours faced extinction, the people grew desperate and committed a taboo. In pursuit of greater strength, the people of that time consumed the flesh of the few dragons they could kill, invigorating themselves and immensely increasing their physical capacity.

The red Phoenix abandoned the power-hungry Ravenours, no longer answering their prayers in hopes they would see the error of their ways; however, soon, a new God appeared. The exact opposite of the original, it brought death and despair to the planet; it appeared out of nowhere, granting its power to a single Ravenour warrior who bore the title of "The Eternal Flame."

No amount of afflictions or bodily destruction could ruin this person. With their rule, the tide of battle quickly shifted in their favor. In the end, after the dragons began to face their own extinction, that unkillable warrior was swallowed whole by a winged beast said to be the enemy leader and flown into space, far away from their kin, never to be seen again.

Vin leaned forward, scowling, "That thing wasn't always a part of your people's belief?"

Hughton grabbed the purple badge on his shirt, clarifying, "No one was alive all those centuries ago to confirm, but according to the tales passed down, the only deity was the red Phoenix, praised by the order of the Scarlet Flame."

Gideon rubbed his hand against the dark scales that climbed up his neck, adding, "They did what they did to survive, and they were punished for it. It's madness that so many groups have rekindled a faith to the red."

Tristen, whose eyes shifted around with the flames, was impatiently rocking left and right and said, "They're only in it for the benefits."

"What benefits?" Vin asked. He was then informed that Ravenours devoted to the order of the Scarlet Flame experienced rapid recovery every dawn of a new day. Meanwhile, its counterpart, the order of the Violet Flame, sent prayers to their God for safety from the night. Thus, there was a dynamic of those who prayed for vigor and others for protection.

They weren't entirely to blame. Ravenours were the first race forced to conjoin with Auroraan. Elves, the original inhabitants, were long-lived, with a life span of 500-600 years, meaning a percentage of their warriors were alive and held grudges from when the Ravenours assimulated 300 years ago. Meanwhile, the half-dragons had a lifespan like humans and were not proficient in magic like Elves. The only thing stopping Ravenours from being obliterated was the dangers of their forest.

Vin presumed the information fed to him was biased. Those Ravenours never mentioned why the Elves held grudges against them. Were the original inhabitants just spiteful that they had to share their home, or did the brutes commit atrocities to earn their hate? Vin only hoped humanity wouldn't end up like them, warring against each other under the same roof and also against others. Further, he hoped he wouldn't suffer a terrible fate as the last person with whom the dastardly bird made a vow.

Vin still didn't have all the answers, but he gained perspective. Being- whatever he was, guaranteed some of the locals wouldn't try to kill him. Less they'd incur the wrath of their God.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hughton rose and asked Vin to remain there for a while longer. He wanted to set the stage to prove to the town that Vin was a godsend while keeping the details of what happened down there a secret. The Warden, alongside the two guards, left, having to find clothing and then assemble an audience.

Vin waited for several minutes before a massive commotion rose outside the jail. He stood in the empty chamber that was once a jail, soon hearing Hughton's voice call his name amid some speech. Vin didn't know if that was a signal to exit, but he'd sat still for long enough; he wanted to be free of that place. As he walked up the stairs of that basement jail, his heart quivered. It was less fear but anticipation of what would transpire once the tens of thousands of aliens would do once they discovered that the legends they'd heard were genuine. Only, now, their God had chosen him, a young human, as its retainer, not one of its own devotees.

Vin reached the top step, his body lit by a vibrant purple that was aggressively brilliant in the gloaming night. He saw Hughton up front, redressed and holding out his hand in presentation of the new Eternal Flame. Vin planted on the ground and straightened himself in front of a panorama of Ravenours, far too many to fit in the limited space on the side of the castle. His mind focused on the moment; the guttural reaction of all those horned individuals was more than he had wished. Their eyes were already wide with fear after seeing the influential flames of their deity had appeared somewhere else aside from the shrine outside gates; they had to wonder if they had done something wrong to offend the God, something deserving punishment; perhaps it had sent a messenger to deliver retribution.

Once Vin arose, an immediate gasp spearheaded the masses' response, followed by frenzied mummers as bodies dumped to their knees and slapped their hands together in prayer. Maybe forgiveness for their constant internal conflicts. Vin's eyes dilated, then quickly shut in disapproval. The surge of faith they directed toward him only filtered into the woes of his heart as he took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his unwanted position settle on his shoulders. He knew they'd revered the black Phoenix, not him. Those people were expecting a warrior like legends past, someone to usher in a new era; however, Vin was not their savior and could not help them turn the tide of battle against the Elves.

Disgust was smeared on the faces of those with opposing beliefs, mainly those with brandings indicating their allegiance to the order of the Scarlet Flame or those who wouldn't accept a human as their own. They were idle for some time; however, a fight soon broke out somewhere beyond Vin's sight. There was shouting, and then a massive wave shook as dozens of Ravenours trampled their way to the front and roared toward the human with intent to kill.

Vin didn't move. He frowned, raising his hand over his face in dismay. Before any hostile force could reach him, Hughton and many other veteran warriors flared their swords and cut down the small force. Once the souls left the corpse, an arrow of heavy darkness pierced Vin's heart. Their death was so loud that their wrathful souls screamed as they parted, and Vin understood all of it, clenching his head as it split.

Life was so sickeningly fragile. And no matter who they were, every soul cried the same grievous blue or raged in red as it passed. His understanding of it was no blessing; it was a curse.

After the sudden attack, the situation didn't become any more manageable. The King of that town arrived with his supporters, briefly extorting their physical dominance over the masses. Those elites relocated Vin to inside the castle, where he, Hughton, and the two guards were held. From what he could tell, it was a temporary holding while things settled and questions could be asked. The room was a simple wooden living chamber with white walls, a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe he pulled clothing from. Vin found the corner the most comfortable, glued there while he dealt with his reality.

The other three seemed to grow more anxious as Ravenours entered the room every several minutes to question what'd happened. Eventually, they were all sitting there with their thoughts. There were occasional glances at Vin, who hid his face in his arms, but he could sense their soul's unease and commented, "Just say what you have to say."

Gideon, who stood against a wall near the door, slapped his own face, turned and punched the wall, and yelled in their language, "I don't know!"

Vin only understood snippets of what they said because of their strange connection to him; still, most of their words were wasted. Gideon seethed, exploding after holding back, "We died! The Scarlet Order killed us on duty minutes after escorting Maeve to the castle! Stabbed us in the back and dragged us to the jail!"

Gideon pressed his thumb into his temple, directing his gaze toward his companion. "We left Meave in this world alone."

Tristen had a childlike silence as if he wasn't sure how to act, but after Gideon spoke his way, his face contorted, and then he bolted up and kicked the desk before fuming. Vin still wasn't fond of them, but he found it noble that they were more worried about another person even though they were the ones murdered.

Hughton was physically still, but Vin saw his internal conflict; his core seemed to sting every time either guard knocked into something. Gideon continued his rampage around the room, communicating, "Our people have been killed or going missing for months. They have to be planning to take the throne."

"If anyone is going to take the throne, it's going to be Maeve!" Tristen shouted. Vin couldn't help but listen, even though their griefs weren't his business. It'd been past 4 a.m., but his mind was active; he wouldn't be able to sleep.