Whispers of Fire

It was a quiet evening, but Ren's thoughts could not lay still.

As he and Sera navigated their way through the dim-lit streets, however, Veyron's words remained churning in his mind.

"You don't belong here. You hardly know who you are."

Ren was loath to admit it, but the man made sense.

He had not yet figured out the Blue Flame. Since his awakening, he had been responding — simply surviving, fighting, struggling — never understanding.

And now a man like Veyron — a powerful man, not known by everybody but known — had come to him, and offered answers.

It didn't sit right with him.

Who was Veyron? And why would he care about Ren?

There was only one way to find out.

Sera walked next to him with her arms crossed, deep in thought. She was silent until Veyron had departed, when she said.

"You're thinking about what he just said, aren't you?"

Ren let out a sigh. "It's hard not to."

She pressed her lips together, nodded, looked around him as he started into a narrow alley. "I don't trust him. But if you want to know who he really is... I know a guy who could help."

Ren looked at her quizzically. "Who?"

Sera paused before a decrepit tavern on the district's outskirts. Its wooden sign creaked, wind-whipped, off a rusted chain. The name had long lost its luster, but the warm glow of lanterns inside suggested it was still open.

"This is a den of mercenaries, informers and criminals. If Veyron has a reputation, someone here will be aware of it." **

Ren hesitated. "And you trust them?"

Sera smirked. "No. But gold makes people talk."

She opened the door, and Ren went in behind her.

The tavern reeked of cheap ale and smoke. It was filled with scruffy men and women, speaking in thick-marbled drunken guffaws or scouring mutters. A few heads turned as they walked past, but most of the people there ignored them.

Sera guided her to a corner table where a wiry man with pinched features and a smirk lifted a silver cup to his lips.

"Well, well, look who came to call," the man said, now putting his drink down. "Sera, it's been a while."

Sera had sat across from him and motioned for Ren to do the same.

"We need information, Dren."

Dren leaned in closer, smile curling bigger. "Ah. And I thought this was a social call." He glanced at Ren. You're seeming to create some waves, Blue Flame. People are talking."

Ren tensed slightly. "Good things, I hope."

Dren chuckled. "Depends on who you ask." He downed another sip of his drink. "So, what can I do for you?"

Sera didn't waste time. "Tell us about Veyron."

Dren's smirk faded. He placed his cup on the counter with a soft clink and scrutinized them closely.

"Veyron, huh? Now that's a name that means something."

Ren moved closer. "What do you know?"

Dren exhaled. "You want to get into this a lot? You may not like what you see."

Ren's expression hardened. "I need to know."

Dren rubbed his chin thoughtfully before saying.

"Veyron isn't merely a powerful fire-wielder. He's a legend—and not the right kind. The man is a ghost who materializes on his terms before vanishing without a trace. Nobody knows where he came from, but what we DO know is this—he's left a trail of destruction everywhere he goes.'"

Ren frowned. "Destruction?"

Dren nodded. "Cities burned overnight. Clans wiped out. Leaders who crossed him mysteriously disappearing. And the worst part?" He leaned in and lowered his voice. "He never takes credit. He never hangs around long enough to gloat. He just falls through them, like fire through everything in its way."

Sera squeezed her drink harder. "So he's a killer."

Dren shrugged. "Some call him a revolutionary. Some say he's simply a monster. Either way, nobody dares give him trouble." He looked directly at Ren. "Except you, apparently."

A shiver ran down Ren's spine. This wasn't just some rival. Veyron was a force of nature — someone who operated outside the rules, beyond the reach of kingdoms and cults alike.

"Why did he approach me?" Ren muttered, more to himself than anyone.

Dren chuckled. "Now that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?" He leaned back. "If I had to hazard a guess… he sees something in you. Something dangerous. Maybe he sees himself."

Ren clenched his jaw. He certainly didn't want to be Veyron.

But a thought nagged deep down—what if he was?

Sera got up and tossed a few gold coins on the table. "Thanks, Dren. We'll be going."

Dren spun a coin on his fingers. "Careful, Sera. You and your little friend Blue Flame here are entering deep waters. I wouldn't want to see you both drown."

Ren and Sera exited the tavern and into the cool night.

Neither of them spoke for a time.

Then finally Sera spoke up. "Are you sorry that you looked into him?"

Ren shook his head. "No. But that doesn't make me feel any better."

Sera sighed. "They were right about one thing, Dren. Veyron isn't exactly someone we can dismiss. He's got a plan if he's watching you."

Ren nodded. He knew that much already.

The real question was — when would Veyron make his next move?

A silhouette shifted across a nearby rooftop as they moved through the dark streets.

Glowing eyes followed them through the night.

And then—a smirk.

Veyron had been listening.

"So … you're interested to learn more about me?"

A flick of his red flames and he disappeared into the void.

"Good. That means you're prepared for what comes next."