You’ll Never Awaken the flame

The shift ended quite late.

Zonaar didn't wait for the call out. As soon as the tools stopped whining and the final rune bell rang across the trench chamber, he dropped his gear off near the rack and pulled off his loader band.

His shoulders felt raw. His chest was still sore from where the relic had burned during the breach.

He pressed his hand to the skin just below his collarbone, he couldn't feel it with bare hands but it was still inside his chest.

He caught up to one of the supervisors near the dock. "How do I get this thing out?"

She didn't look up from her clipboard. "It'll release on its own. Once the agolit's energy burned out, it will just slide out without you doing anything."

"That's it?"

She finally glanced over. "You're not dead, are you?"

"No."

"Then yeah. That's it. It'll slip free before you reach the upper docks. Keep it. You'll need it next time you're assigned down here."

Zonaar didn't argue and just followed the rest of the crew onto the waiting Currentback, took a seat near the rear stabiliser, and fastened the straps loosely across his chest.

The lights dimmed for the journey back and as soon as the artifact started, the pressure inside changed. The transport made a hiss as it pushed off from the trench dock and began its ascent, riding the slow current towards the surface relay.

Halfway up, he felt something like moving in his chest. it wasn't painful, just a soft tug... and then the relic slid right out, smooth as bone sliding through water. It dropped into his lap with a clink.

He picked it up. The runes on the base had gone dark. No glow left or any visible energy. 

He slipped it into a pouch beside his belt and leaned back in his seat.

His body still ached.

But at least this part was over.

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧

The cliff path was quiet at night, with hardly anyone around when he passed through. Most of the workers had already gone home. A few still wandered the side trails towards the taverns or bunkhouses, dragging their boots like him. The air smelled of salt and seaweed — standard, when your whole world was sea.

Zonaar kept his head down and kept walking toward his house, but as he turned halfway near the ridge, a voice cut through the quiet.

"Still working in the mines, sparkless?"

He didn't need to look. He recognised the voice immediately — smug, loud, and always a little too proud of himself.

Kaen.

Leaning against the wall near the turn like he owned the place. Shoulder-length black hair, a round face, and long-lashed brown eyes that made him look softer than he was. But Zonaar knew better. Kaen was two years older, a bit taller, and far too fast with his mouth — or his fists, depending on the day. Both of them were from Thirren village. 

Zonaar didn't answer and just kept walking.

Kaen caught up anyway, boots landing light on the gravel, clearly trying to show off his footwork.

"My cultivation just hit Stage Three of the foundation realm last week," Kaen said casually. "Master said I'll be able to ascend soon if I keep the steady pace and reach the next realm. They're reviewing placement in upper realm sects already."

Zonaar kept walking.

Kaen snorted. "Right. Forgot. You don't talk much. Still cracking rocks for ration slips while the rest of us move up."

Zonaar's fingers curled into fists in his pockets.

He didn't say anything.

"Well… keep at it, I guess. You'll be good at hauling crates for the next generation of cultivators."

He gave a lazy two-finger salute and started to walk towards the docks.

Zonaar didn't look back.

Just kept walking.

"Stage Three of the Second Realm," he said out loud. "Still not even close to the fourth realm — the one you need if you ever want to ascend to the floating lands where the high-rank cultivators live."

He scoffed. "He thinks I don't know anything about cultivation.

Not that I'd know how to get there myself anyway, but I made sure to get all the knowledge before I stopped trying to awaken my nirith fire."

The path crunched under his boots.

"I read all the theory. Every scroll they let miners touch. I probably know more than half the idiots boasting their flames around like they've earned something."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"But knowing stuff doesn't light the flame, does it?"

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧

He dropped his tools by the door as soon as he reached home, tore a piece of the cold bread, and finished the leftover stew straight from the bowl. No point of heating it. Food was food.

Zonaar then crashed early with his sore body and fogged brain. He didn't even remember closing his eyes.

But the room didn't stay empty.

At some point in the night, the air shifted.

And from the scale relic he had found at work, a figure, more like a see through shadow emerged and stood beside his bed like she'd always been there and watching him.

She looked down at him with calm and unreadable eyes.

"You really dragged that cursed scale here, didn't you? I never thought of seeing you this soon, but... here we are.

This mortal shell looks better than what you had before. But what does it matter…

when your soul is that of a traitor."

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

"Do whatever hard work you want. Burn through pills, tea, scrolls -- it won't matter."

Her voice lowered.

"You'll never awaken your flame. I'll make sure of that and watch your downfall with my own eyes."

And with that, she vanished into the scale again.

The warmth in the scale died out… like something had just changed.

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧

Zonaar woke up all sore with a feeling like something heavy had been pressed into his bones while he slept.

His sister was already up and was cooking the food for both of them.

"I heard what happened from Myra. Her brother was on the same crew at work with you."

Zonaar sat up slowly. "…He made it out?"

"He's in the infirmary, his arm got torn. She also told me a diver got pulled through a crack in the reef wall." She finally looked at him. "Said you passed out."

Zonaar didn't answer.

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't want you to panic."

"I was panicking, idiot." Her voice cracked at the end. She turned away, pressing her hands against the kitchen shelf. "I thought we were past this kind of loss after our parents died. I thought you'd be smarter enough to know what is dangerous by now."

He rubbed the side of his neck. "We need money to survive."

"We'll figure something out. Just... don't go back there in the sea. Please."

Then, she added: "There's still that martial school that sent you the invitation the other day. You could apply for a guard training there. At least it's above the water."

Zonaar looked down at his hands.

"They don't take people with no flame like me."

"They take bodies that move. They don't care how you burn, just if you can lift a spear and follow the orders. You said that yourself once."

He let out a slow breath. Then nodded.

"I'll go. Just to see."

She didn't thank him. Just turned back and started to stir the pot of rice.

Zonaar stood, changed his clothes, and put the scale in his pocket which had lost its warmth from before. He glanced at the door… and stepped outside.

"Anything's better than drowning."

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧