Chapter 20: A New Flame

The fire was gentle that morning.

Not a blaze. Not an inferno.

Just the slow, crackling whisper of new wood catching flame—like the beginning of spring after a bitter winter.

Lumen dreamed.

Someone was calling him.

The voice was faint, stretched thin across memory.

"...Lumen... come on, you're going to miss it..."

It was a woman's voice, light but urgent. Not Rin. Not Elira. Someone older, kinder—half-remembered. He turned in the dream, chasing the sound. It danced through corridors of mist and shadow, slipping through open doors. He pushed one open and found—

Earth.

Not this world, but another. Fluorescent lights. The smell of burnt toast. A TV blinking static. He was holding a paper cup. He was late for something. A screen on the wall flashed red text he couldn't read. A woman behind a desk was saying his name—

"Lumen Halden, room six—"

But then it changed.

The dream cracked.

Threads bled through the corners. The hallway warped. The walls melted into fabric and fire.

He awoke.

The cottage smelled of mint and fresh bread. Outside, a crow cawed once—then silence. Morning.

Lumen sat up, sweat dampening his neck. The dream clung to him, sticky and half-formed.

Rin's voice came from the other room. "He's finally up. Took you long enough."

Gilger added, with a groan, "We placed bets. I lost."

Lumen stepped into the kitchen, where Elira was already preparing tea. The hearth fire flickered softly. She glanced at him and offered a warm nod.

Rin stood by the window, her arm now better wrapped. Gilger leaned back on a bench, holding a steaming mug with both hands like it was treasure.

The door creaked.

Mary stepped in.

The little bread girl.

Same unruly curls, same flour-dusted hands. Her smile was shy but bright. "I brought the morning loaves. Mama said it's my turn."

Elira ruffled her hair gently. "You're early."

Mary grinned. "I wanted to see if the ghost-boy was still alive."

Rin chuckled. Gilger smirked. Even Lumen cracked a small smile.

He knelt down. "Thank you for the bread. I'm not a ghost. I'm just... bad at mornings."

Mary eyed him. "You look like someone who forgets to sleep."

"I do," he admitted.

She nodded, satisfied, then skipped out after Elira gave her a copper ring and a slice of dried fig.

Later that day, the four of them sat beneath the scarecrow post.

The grave was behind them, silent but whole.

The fields of Hollowrest swayed gently.

Lumen exhaled. "There's something I need to say."

Rin looked at him. "You're being serious again. Should we be worried?"

"I have a System."

Gilger raised an eyebrow. Rin blinked.

"Like the Threads?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not just that. It talks. It guides. It… picked me. And I don't think I'm from this world. I think I came from another."

Silence. The wind rustled dry wheat.

Gilger was the first to speak. "Okay. Weird. But kind of makes sense. You've always felt... off. In a cool way."

Rin's voice was quiet. "And you came here alone?"

He nodded. "I didn't remember at first. It's been coming back in dreams."

Lumen took a slow breath.

"All this time," he said, "people have called me by a name I never gave them. It was always just there—whispered by the System, or written on the screen."

Rin tilted her head. "You never told us your name."

"Because I wasn't sure it was mine," he said. "Not really. It felt… borrowed. Like everything else since I got here. But in the dream, someone called me that. Not as a title. As a memory."

He looked up at them, voice steadier now.

"My name is Lumen."

The word settled between them.

Gilger blinked, then grinned. "Well, damn. Took you long enough."

Rin's eyes softened. She didn't smile, but something in her posture eased. "Then it suits you. Light in a dark place. Just… try not to die like the last guy who lit the way."

Lumen chuckled, dry and worn. "No promises."

But for the first time, the name didn't feel hollow.

It felt real.

She crossed her arms, face unreadable. "Then I'm still going with you."

He looked up. "Why?"

"Because my brother is still out there," she said. "And I don't care if the sky turns inside out—I'm going to find him."

Gilger shrugged. "I'm in too. I've got secrets. I like yours more."

Elira stepped from the house then, holding a sealed letter. "I thought you might reach this point. This is for the capital. An old friend runs the Sigil Academy there. I wrote ahead. They'll test you. Maybe train you. Maybe explain things I can't."

Lumen stood, the weight of the letter suddenly immense in his palm.

Elira placed a hand on his chest. "Don't forget why you're going. Power doesn't matter. Purpose does."

He nodded.

And so, as the sun dipped behind Hollowrest's hills, they packed light. Three bags. One old mount. A cat that may or may not follow.

And three people, stitched together by grief, secrets, and strange new threads.

The scarecrow post watched them go.

Its threads danced in the wind, soft and slow.

a new flame had begun.