Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Even if Nothing Happens

The fire was still in Taigami’s chest.

Even as the city fell behind them and Ulrich’s story of the Speedfire echoed in his ears, the words clung to his soul like embers refusing to die.

You want to become like me?

You can become stronger.

He hadn’t said anything after that.

He didn’t have to.

Ulrich’s voice had unlocked something in him—something deeper than pain or grief.

A quiet resolve.

But just as Ulrich turned to continue the tale, a voice rang out across the shattered street.

“Ulrich!”

They turned sharply.

A Warden—taller, clad in the same battle-worn coat as Ulrich—strode toward them from a nearby rooftop. His boots hit the ground with practiced ease, his tone clipped and urgent.

“The Observation Unit is here. Five minutes out. You need to get your group moving.”

Ulrich nodded once, then turned back to the boys. “That’s our cue.”

Without further delay, they pressed forward. The silence between them was filled only by the sound of ash crunching beneath their feet and the distant hum of waves rolling in.

As the battered skyline gave way to sea air, the port came into view—a fractured but still-operating lifeline. There were few ships. Fewer faces. But hope lingered like the salt in the air.

Ulrich finally spoke again.

“The truth about the Speedfire,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent, “isn’t just about power. It’s about rebirth. A fire that chose not to burn the world… but to remake it.”

Taigami walked beside him, the words pulling at something deep in his chest.

He was just a man… like me. Chosen in the darkest moment. And he changed everything.

Could I…?

At the docks, a merchant was speaking with the ticketmaster, finalizing their passage. Sky paid quickly and turned to wait for the others. But something caught his eye.

A group of peasants, huddled nearby—clothes ragged, eyes desperate—were arguing with the port guards.

“We don’t have enough,” one pleaded. “Please, we have children—”

The guard waved them off coldly. “No money, no ship.”

Before Taigami could even react, Ulrich stepped forward.

Quietly. Calmly.

“I’ll pay for them,” he said.

The guards blinked. The peasants froze.

Ulrich handed over more coin. No questions. No hesitation.

Taigami, Ivan, and Sky watched from a few steps back, all of them stunned.

“He didn’t even think twice…” Sky whispered.

Prince, leaning on Taigami for balance, gave a long exhale. “He’s… not what I expected.”

As they climbed the ramp onto the ship, one by one, Taigami paused near the top and turned back—eyes sweeping across the island.

The smoke was thinning now. The mountains stood tall in the distance. Somewhere beneath that sky were the ashes of his home, the echoes of his brother, the last cry of his mother.

He remembered it all—the laughter. The meals. The night they chased fireflies barefoot in the grass.

And the screams.

He didn’t wipe his tears this time. He let them fall.

I’ll come back, he swore silently. One day. When I’m strong enough. When I’m ready to face what’s waiting.

I’ll come back… not as a boy.

But as someone who can protect the people he loves.

The ship horn sounded.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He stepped aboard.

The ship groaned as it pulled away from the dock, its hull splitting the gentle waves with a steady rhythm. A salty breeze swept across the deck, fluttering the edges of cloaks and jackets. The city—the island—grew smaller behind them with every passing second.

Ulrich stood near the rail, arms folded, eyes watching the horizon but seeing something far beyond it.

Taigami sat nearby, his back pressed against a crate, the wind brushing gently through his dark-blue-black hair. Sky sat beside him, Ivan was bouncing between barrels further down the deck, and Prince leaned against the wall with a quiet, unreadable stare.

Ulrich’s voice broke the silence.

“People think the Speedfire was chosen because he was special. Because he had something no one else did.”

He glanced down at the waves.

“But the truth is… the fire chose him because he stood up when no one else would. Because he didn’t run. Because he believed humanity could be more than what the world said it was.”

Taigami listened without blinking.

“Before that moment,” Ulrich continued, “John Smith wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t born powerful. He had no legacy. He had no Gift. All he had… was heart.”

He turned slightly, just enough to meet Taigami’s eyes.

“And that… is why the fire chose him.”

The deck creaked as the ship tilted gently with the waves. The sky overhead was a burnt orange now, the last light of day fading behind scattered clouds.

Ulrich stepped forward, resting a hand on the railing.

“He didn’t become the Speedfire because he wanted power. He became the Speedfire because he wanted change. Because he wanted to burn away fear. Burn away weakness. Burn away cruelty.”

He nodded toward the dark line of the island behind them.

“He sealed the demon clan. Brought peace to a world that never thought it could have it. And when it was done, he didn’t stay to rule. He disappeared—like a spark carried away by the wind.”

Taigami’s heart was thudding.

The man who saved the world hadn’t been a legend. He’d been… just like him.

Powerless. Overlooked.

But determined.

And in that, Taigami saw a mirror.

I want to be that spark, he thought. That fire. I want to burn so brightly that no one I love ever gets hurt again.

Ulrich turned fully now, looking at the boys.

“There’s a reason you all survived. A reason you’re still standing.”

His gaze landed squarely on Taigami.

“And sometimes… the fire chooses again.”

The wind shifted, stirring the sails above. The sea stretched endlessly around them—tranquil but vast, as if the world itself was waiting.

Sky looked up, curiosity flickering in his sapphire eyes.

“Wait… the fire chooses again?” he asked. “Does that mean… there could be another Speedfire?”

Ulrich didn’t hesitate.

“Yes,” he said simply. “There already have been.”

That silenced the group.

Ivan stopped mid-bounce. Prince turned his head. Taigami leaned in slightly, his heart tapping against his chest like a drumroll.

Taigami spoke next. “Who were they?”

Ulrich’s gaze narrowed slightly, but not out of secrecy—more out of weight. Memory.

“They were trained,” he said, “seasoned. Veterans of war. Not just gifted with power… but shaped by it. Wardens—chosen from the elite ranks of OBS-1D1AN.”

Sky blinked. “You mean… all the other Speedfires were Wardens?”

Ulrich nodded.

“Not all Wardens are chosen. But no one who hasn’t survived the crucible of selection ever has been.”

Ivan scratched his head. “What’s the crucible?”

“It’s a nightmare,” Ulrich said coldly. “Less than one in ten thousand makes it through the OBS-1D1AN entry trials. The rest either drop out… or die.”

Taigami’s eyes burned with something new—hope. He stepped forward slightly, gripping the edge of the railing.

“Then… if I wanted to become the Speedfire,” he said slowly, “all I’d have to do is become a Warden, right? Pass that test?”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Prince scoffed and cut through the still air.

“That’s not how it works,” he said, folding his arms. “You can’t even become a Warden if you don’t have Energy in the first place.”

His voice wasn’t cruel—but it was final, edged with the sharpness of fact.

Sky glanced at Taigami, concern softening his features.

Ivan hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah… and remember the Shrine of Revelation? We tried all the elements, and… nothing happened, Taigami. No reaction.”

Prince crossed his arms tighter. “That shrine has stood for centuries. It’s how those who couldn’t awaken their Divergent Energy early were finally able to unlock it. If it didn’t respond to you… then maybe there’s just nothing there.”

Taigami’s eyes dropped for a moment. The memory was sharp—of standing in that glowing river, one element after another brought to him by his friends, and… nothing. Only silence.

He clenched his fists at his sides.

“I know,” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “I was there. I remember.”

He looked up again, meeting their eyes—first Ivan’s, then Prince’s.

“But if there’s still a possibility—even the smallest one—then I have to try.”

His voice didn’t shake.

Not anymore.

And for a moment, that flicker of fire in Taigami’s chest dimmed.

But Ulrich’s voice cut through the silence—not with force, but with quiet finality.

“You’re right to ask that,” he said. “Under normal circumstances… he wouldn’t.”

The words hit like a wall—but Ulrich wasn’t done.

“However,” he continued, reaching into a pouch at his side, “the shrine you used was likely compromised.”

He pulled out a small, clear vial—inside it swirled a shimmering, silver-blue liquid that shimmered like moonlight on water.

“The Breach near Throst City may have corrupted the shrine’s detection field. What you saw… might not be the truth.”

He held out the vial.

“This is called Enaura’s Elixir. A relic of the old world. It detects Energy—not just active Gifts, but dormant ones. Even in the faintest trace. If it reacts inside you… it means something is there. If not…”

He didn’t need to finish.

The weight of the moment fell across them all.

Ulrich stepped closer to Taigami, offering the vial with an open hand.

The boy stared at it for a long moment. The silver liquid shimmered like a dream in glass.

His heart thundered.

He remembered his mother. His brother. Prince lying broken. Ulrich standing like a blade of light. And all the times he had stood helpless in the face of disaster.

Taigami reached forward and took the vial.

The glass felt cool in his fingers—too light for something that might carry the weight of his future.

He looked up at Ulrich. “I don’t care what this says,” he whispered. “Whether it glows… or does nothing…”

He drew a sharp breath, his voice steady.

“…I’m not giving up.”

With trembling fingers, he uncorked it.

The faint scent of metal and ozone drifted out—like rain on scorched stone.

The boys leaned in. Even Prince said nothing.

Taigami raised the vial to his lips.

And drank.

The wind held its breath.

The sea went still.

And for one long, silent moment…

Nothing happened.