Seventeen years after the Flame Archive opened to all—
A boy stood on the southern cliffs of the Soul Flame School, barefoot and smiling, wind tearing through the stitched-gray robes of a first-year.
His name was not carved into any scroll.
Not yet.
But his flame was already whispering.
His name: Wei Lin.
He was not a prodigy.
Not a chosen soul.
Not a reincarnator.
Just a boy who had grown up hearing three words in every prayer, every tale, every whispered bedtime story:
"Remember your name."
Today, the Soul Flame School would begin its annual Flamekind Trials—a ceremonial rite for new initiates to awaken their inner fire and write the first syllable of their chosen path.
Wei Lin stepped into the courtyard.
Around him stood nearly two hundred others.
Some wore armor.
Some had dragon-marked skin.
Some glowed faintly with inherited soul-scripts from former heavens.
Wei Lin had… nothing.
Except his breath.
And a single book, bound in black string, titled:
"Teachings of Xu Shen — A Flame for the Forgotten"
From the grand steps, an elder in sky-white robes raised a hand.
He was old, one eye closed, but his presence quieted the winds.
"Today," the elder said, "you do not fight."
"You do not devour. You do not compete."
"Today, you remember yourselves."
One by one, initiates stepped forward into the Naming Flame—a living fire shaped like a wheel, hovering in midair.
Some named themselves with old clan titles.
Others chose forgotten names reclaimed from lost bloodlines.
When it was Wei Lin's turn, the crowd barely watched.
He was no one.
He stepped forward anyway.
The flame hovered before him, waiting.
He closed his eyes.
And whispered:
"I name myself not for who I was…"
"But for what I will carry."
The flame flared.
Then dimmed.
But did not reject him.
A single line of gold burned across his skin.
And the scroll beside the Naming Flame wrote:
Wei Lin, Flameborn Initiate. Path chosen: Remembrance.
Silence.
Then the elder slowly stood taller.
He stared down at the scroll.
"Remembrance…?"
Another teacher beside him leaned in.
"That was Xu Shen's path."
The old man nodded.
And for the first time in seventeen years, he said the name aloud:
"Then let us watch what the children of the flame become."
Far away, atop a distant peak, a man in robes of gold and dusk smiled quietly.
Xu Shen, now called only the Flamefather, watched the scroll update from a distance.
He said nothing.
But the fire in his chest grew warmer.