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Classic Blackwood's POV
The room was unnervingly silent as the council members gathered around the ancient altar. The obsidian walls shimmered with reflections of torchlight, and in the center of it all… the Bloodstone. The same stone that had judged Christiana.
I stood at the edge, my hands clenched. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest. I wasn't afraid of pain—but I was afraid of what the flame might reveal.
> "Classic Blackwood," the High Scribe announced, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You have been summoned by the command of the God of the Empire. The flame must judge your blood. Do you accept?"
I stepped forward. I didn't need to answer. My silence was the answer.
The elders parted, forming a path. I moved toward the pedestal where the flame flickered above the stone—silent, watchful, sentient. This wasn't just ceremony. The Bloodstone had its own will, and today it would decide whether I was worthy of the crown.
A blade was brought forward—golden, slender, and ancient.
> "A drop is enough," the scribe whispered. "But remember… the flame sees everything."
I took the blade without hesitation and pricked my fingertip. One drop of blood rolled down and hit the stone.
The room went still.
The blood sizzled, steam rising. The stone glowed—first red… then silver… then gold.
The flame roared to life.
Gasps echoed through the council chamber. The elders dropped to one knee. Even the High Scribe's voice trembled as he spoke:
> "The flame has not only accepted his blood… it has exalted it."
Chris stepped out from the shadows. His face, usually unreadable, carried a flicker of emotion—was it pride? Fear? Even he hadn't expected this.
> "The heir is no longer just a prince," the scribe declared. "He is the Chosen Flame."
But I didn't move.
I stared at the fire that danced around the Bloodstone now—my fire.
I had passed.
But something inside me whispered: This isn't just about power. The flame gave me more than a title. It gave me a responsibility that will shake this empire to its core.
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Skylar's POV
Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Classic from the upper tier. The way the flame embraced him—it reminded me of the day Chris first took the throne.
But it was different.
The fire welcomed Classic. Not as a ruler… but as a new kind of king.
A revolution in flesh.
And I knew—this was only the beginning.
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To Be Continued…