Names in the Fire

The wind atop the Lower Ember Plaza was dry and hot, carrying with it the scent of molten rock and old incense. Lin Xuan stood in formation with hundreds of other outer disciples, each arranged in tidy rows beneath the eyes of watching elders.

Above them, seven crimson spirit clouds drifted like lazy suns. On each floated an elder in resplendent robes, faces half-obscured by burning veils or glowing crowns. Their robes shimmered with rank—some bore red flame trim, others gold. A few were so saturated with heat qi that the air warped around them.

All were silent. Observing. Judging.

And they had just called Lin Xuan's name.

The reaction was instant.

"Who?"

"That's a mistake."

"Ash-Blood? They called him?"

Whispers surged through the crowd. Even the outermost rows turned their heads. One boy near Lin Xuan scoffed and took a step away, as if Lin carried rot.

Lin Xuan stepped forward.

The square was wide and unforgiving. Sunlight beat down upon him as he walked toward the front, his footsteps alone echoing across the stone. Every step felt watched, weighed, scorched.

He kept his back straight.

He did not look at Zhao Kuan.

He did not look at the disciples who whispered.

He looked only ahead.

One of the elders, a thin man whose robes bore the curling symbol of flame scripture, raised a brow as Lin Xuan approached. "State your name," he said, voice cool.

"Lin Xuan."

"You are of no clan."

Lin Xuan nodded.

"No divine fire, no outer court recommendations, and no verified inheritance," the elder recited, reading from a scroll that glowed with faint inscription lines. "And yet your name emerged from the casting flame."

Lin Xuan said nothing.

The elder's gaze sharpened. "Explain why you think your name would be drawn."

"I don't."

The elder's eyes narrowed.

"But since it was," Lin Xuan added, "I will walk forward."

There was a long pause.

Then — to Lin Xuan's surprise — a snort of laughter. Not mocking. Genuine.

A woman stood up from the furthest flame cloud. Her robes were layered gold-on-scarlet, and a solar crest burned faintly on her brow. Elder Wu Shuyan, the most senior among the outer court supervisors.

"I like this one," Elder Wu Shuyan said. "No excuses. No flattery. Let the ashes walk. Perhaps they'll catch fire."

The scroll-bearing elder looked unconvinced, but he nodded. "Very well. Lin Xuan, you will be number sixty-nine. Do not be late on entry day. Step aside."

Lin Xuan bowed. "Yes, elder."

He returned to the edge of the plaza. This time, no one moved closer.

By the time all names were called, one hundred disciples had been chosen. Some were expected — like Wei Jingyan, who bore crimson irises and flames coiled around his wrists even while idle. Others were surprises — one girl wept when her name was called, clutching her spirit bell.

Lin Xuan remained still.

The crowd eventually dispersed. Some left in groups, talking excitedly about trial formations and preparation scrolls. Others lingered, throwing glances at Lin Xuan like they were staring at an open wound.

Only one stepped toward him.

"Did you cheat?"

The voice was soft. Feminine.

Lin Xuan turned.

A girl stood before him, robes immaculately arranged, a thin flute tied to her waist by a red cord. Lan Mei. Her auburn curls shimmered in the sun, and her gaze held no cruelty — only a strange kind of confusion.

"I didn't," Lin Xuan said.

"I didn't think you would. But… then how?"

Lin Xuan shrugged. "Maybe the flame pit is broken."

Lan Mei smiled faintly. "That would be the most terrifying outcome."

She hesitated. "I—"

But she was interrupted by a booming laugh behind them.

"Of course he cheated," said Zhao Kuan, striding up with his usual sneer. "Or bribed someone. He wouldn't even make it past the outer edge of the domain."

Lan Mei frowned. "The casting flame doesn't take bribes."

"Maybe not. But who knows what that ash-blood's been poking around in. I heard he spends nights in the archive ruins."

Lin Xuan met Zhao Kuan's gaze. "Still thinking about me, Zhao Kuan?"

Zhao Kuan's grin turned sharp. "I just want front-row seats when your spark goes out."

With a final scoff, Zhao Kuan turned and left, his lackeys falling in behind him.

Lan Mei looked at Lin Xuan for a long moment. "Be careful," she said at last. "The domain isn't kind. And if you really did get in by fate… fate has a funny way of testing you."

She left without waiting for a reply.

Lin Xuan stood alone.

Above, the casting flame atop the central brazier flickered.

For a moment — just a moment — he thought it flickered in time with his heartbeat.