The Divine Flame
“Huff… huff… hah!” I had no idea how long I’d been running. I’d always taken pride in my stamina, but now it felt like my lungs were ripping apart. Every breath carried the metallic tang of blood. The freezing night air slashed at my throat like a knife, yet I couldn’t stop. The gap I’d desperately opened with ten frantic strides was swallowed up by a single Titan step.
Faster. Faster! I screamed silently, driving my legs harder. Each violent shake of the torch in my hand made the forest shadows twist and stretch in grotesque patterns, like hundreds of vengeful spirits reaching out to seize me.
I don’t know how much farther I ran. At last I stumbled to a halt, clutching a tree trunk as I gasped for air.
“Haah… haah… Is it… not chasing me anymore?”
I suddenly realized the thunderous footsteps that had pursued me had vanished. When had they stopped? Not a sound remained. Something that massive couldn’t possibly move in secret, yet the silence was absolute. The feeling that rose in me wasn’t relief, but a chill of dread.
“It wouldn’t have gone back to Grandfather… would it?”
Driven by that ominous thought, I turned to retrace my steps. But first I tried to extinguish the torch.
“……?”
No matter how hard I shook it or rubbed it against the snow, the flame refused to die. If anything, it burned even brighter, as if defying me. What kind of fire was this? Now that I looked closely, the flames themselves seemed different from any I knew—closer to gold than red. Though far more intense than ordinary fire, they brought no burns. Instead, a strange vitality seeped into my exhausted body. It was uncanny. Almost like starfire.
“Whoa… Don’t tell me even the flames are different outside the mountain range?”
Fire lit beyond the mountains really was something else. I was staring in blank amazement at the thought when—
—CRACK!
A deafening rupture split the air. A massive tree in the corner of my vision snapped like a matchstick.
“……!”
I thrust the torch forward on instinct. In the darkness, multicolored eyes gleamed. A mane as white as snow.
“A mountain boar…?”
It was one of the beasts occasionally seen in the range. Not a giant, thank the heavens, but it was far too early to feel relieved. This was the Mite Mountain Range—a demonic realm where even animals had evolved into monsters to survive. Its house-sized body and the enormous tusks jutting from its snout were weapons of pure malice. A tyrant of the mountains.
—Snort!
It pawed the ground with its hind legs, blasting out clouds of steam from its nostrils. The prelude to a charge. My body moved before my mind could catch up. Pure survival instinct had taken the wheel.
—KWA-KA-KA-KANG!
Just as expected, the boar came thundering forward. The impact was like a boulder crashing down a mountainside. I had no time to roll or break my fall; I tumbled across the snowfield from the shockwave.
“Oof…!”
Thick dust flooded my lungs. My entire body screamed in pain. When I laboriously lifted my head, the scene looked like a landslide had torn through it. The spot where I’d been standing was completely obliterated. If my reaction had been even a fraction slower, I would have been crushed to pieces.
—Crunch. Snap.
The crisis wasn’t over. Ignoring momentum, the boar pivoted and charged at me again. Its speed was impossible for its size. There was no way to dodge.
Ah. This is it.
Grandmother, I’m sorry. It seems I’m heading your way a little sooner than expected.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the end. At that instant—
—WHOOSH!
A scorching heat brushed my cheek. A golden flash incinerated the darkness. My vision flooded with white.
—SCREEE!
A piercing squeal followed, like a pig having its throat cut. I cautiously opened my eyes.
What I saw was unbelievable.
The mountain boar that had been about to trample me was now engulfed in a colossal pillar of flame, shrieking in agony. The scream didn’t last long. The heat was so overwhelming it left not even ash behind. The boar was incinerated like a scrap of paper.
—Hiss. Crackle.
A foul stench of burning bristles and roasted meat filled the air. Where the boar had stood, only a scorched mark remained.
“What in the world…?”
It was impossible. Even if every man in the village had rushed it together, the fight would have been close at best…
As I stared dazedly at the charred remains, the sound of footsteps crunching through snow reached my ears.
“You’ve chosen a harsh path.”
“…Elder?”
The one who emerged from the undergrowth was none other than the old man from earlier. Golden embers swirled around him like fireflies.
“How did you get here…? What about the Titan? And—did you just do that?”
I hurled question after question, but the old man said nothing. He simply swept the area once with those dry, golden eyes, then walked toward the torch I had dropped while dodging the boar. Even lying in the snow, its flame burned as fiercely as ever.
“Hmm.”
With a short grunt, the old man picked it up. The moment his hand touched it, something strange happened. The torch writhed with joy, like a loyal hound reunited with its master.
“The one who claims the flame shall face two destinies.”
“To earn the wrath of the gods, or to receive their favor. Either way, the moment you become entangled with the divine, a peaceful life is forever beyond your reach.”
“……Pardon?”
I stared at him blankly. The old man lifted the torch to eye level and gazed at me through the flames.
“What is your name?”
“It’s… Leon.”
“Leon. I ask you this. Why did you run while carrying that torch?”
“That’s…”
“You could have used me as bait and fled. Or you could have extinguished the flame and hidden in silence. Yet you deliberately carried that blazing torch, drawing the monsters’ attention.”
His eyes held no emotion. It wasn’t mere curiosity. They were eyes that sought truth, piercing straight through to my core. The instant I met that gaze, an instinctive certainty struck me: I must not lie.
I steadied my trembling voice and told him the truth.
“If I abandoned a helpless old man and ran, I wouldn’t be able to face my grandmother. That’s all there is to it.”
“Hmm.”
Even after I finished, the old man remained silent for a long time. Only the crackling of the flames filled the heavy stillness. His expression was unreadable. I couldn’t tell whether he was satisfied or disappointed.
At last he turned away.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes? Where?”
“To your house.”
“To our house? You, sir?”
The old man paused and looked back.
“I saved your life. Do you intend to disregard your savior?”
“Ah… I suppose you did.”
It was true—he had rescued me from the boar. Then again, I had come to save Grandfather, and that was what led me to the boar in the first place. Strictly speaking, wasn’t this entire situation something he had caused?
“Will you not go?”
“I-I’m going.”
His shameless attitude left me speechless, but refusal was never an option. This was the man who had erased a house-sized boar in an instant. I had no means to stop him.
I slipped the old man into the house under cover of darkness. Unlike me—who had heard Grandmother’s stories of the outside world since childhood—the villagers harbored extreme wariness toward outsiders. If they discovered him and learned I had brought him here, I would be driven out with stones. Fortunately our house stood on a hill some distance from the village, so it wasn’t difficult.
“Please, sit here.”
I seated him in a chair and took the seat directly across from him. I stared at him. He gazed steadily back at me.
“When you invite a guest into your home, it is proper to offer tea.”
“Ah, it’s been so long since anyone besides me came inside. I’ll prepare some right away.”
I brought out the tea I had brewed earlier to drink after coming down the mountain. Unfortunately, quite some time had passed and it had gone cold.
“Here’s the tea. It’s a bit cold, though.”
“Hmm.”
The moment the old man grasped the cup, a golden current rose once more. Steam billowed instantly from the cooled liquid.
“Whoa!”
I jumped in shock at the incredible sight. To him it seemed perfectly ordinary; he calmly took a sip.
“Um…!”
I couldn’t contain my curiosity and opened my mouth, but he held out the empty cup, cutting me off. I swallowed my burning questions, refilled his cup, and cautiously asked while watching his expression.
“Elder, by any chance… are you a mage?”
Among the stories Grandmother used to tell, there were a few I especially loved: tales of gods, heroes, and mages. Gods were transcendent beings who once existed in this world. Heroes were those who overcame impossible trials and accomplished great deeds. So what were mages?
Those chosen by the gods, granted the power to wield miracles. That was what they were called.
Mages were not born. They were simply chosen. The choice might come according to a god’s whim, or for their amusement. It might fall upon the descendant of a family that had sworn loyalty to a particular deity for generations, or upon a complete stranger with no connections at all. One thing, however, was certain.
Those chosen by the gods could channel divine miracles through human flesh.
The way he had heated the tea, the way he had slain the boar earlier—the golden flames the old man produced were unmistakably magic. Nothing else could explain such mystery.
“I am not a mage. I have not received an oracle.”
Contrary to my expectations, the old man firmly denied it.
“Not a mage? Then who exactly are you, Elder? What do you do?”
When I thought about it, there were countless strange things. Starting with the fact that an old man had reached the Mite Mountain Range at all. He had faced a Titan and emerged unscathed. He had erased a house-sized boar in a single stroke. These were feats no ordinary person could achieve—miracles straight out of Grandmother’s stories.
The old man took another slow sip of tea, then finally spoke and introduced himself.
“I am called Prometheus. In the world at large, I am known as the Foreseer… or the Prophet.”