Chapter 04

Chapter 04

Fire in the Blood

Judah woke before dawn to the sound of drums.

Not loud war drums—training drums. Slow, steady, relentless. Their rhythm seeped through the Red Sun compound like a heartbeat.

He sat up on his bunk, still getting used to his new surroundings. The recruits’ dormitory was simple: wooden floors, thin mattresses, red banners stitched with gold suns. Everything smelled of incense and muscle sweat.

His mask—the Red Lion half-mask—rested on a pedestal beside him. Even dormant, it felt alive.

Judah reached for it, but pulled back.
He could feel the Dralio watching from the other side of the veil.

We meet again, the spirit murmured faintly.
In fire, in battle, in hunger.

Judah shivered.

The door slammed open. A tall, broad-shouldered man entered, wearing a crimson hawk mask. His voice boomed through the dorm.

“All recruits, OUT! Training court in sixty seconds. Move like you want to live!”

Judah scrambled to his feet and fell into line with the others. Most recruits had ordinary masks—geckos, hawks, snakes, wolves. Some looked at Judah with curiosity. Others glared openly.

Word spreads fast in the spirit world.
The Dralio’s return had traveled faster than rumor.

Outside, the compound stretched wide: training yards, sparring rings, meditation gardens, the Spirit Archives, even a shooting range for the elite contracts.

The masked instructor—called Captain Nuru—paced before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“Trial Two: Power is nothing without discipline.”

And I will be your instructor for today’s lesson.

He stopped in front of Judah.

“You have a rare spirit. That makes you dangerous—to yourself and to everyone here.”

Judah held Nuru’s stare. “I won’t lose control.”

“You will,” Nuru said simply. “Everyone does. The question is whether you stand up again.”

The day became painful.

Drills. Push-ups on gravel. Blindfolded balance tests. Running until his ribs felt like cracked wood.
But the hardest exercise came at sunset.

“Spirit Resonance Training.”

Recruits knelt in a circle while Nuru chanted in a dialect older than the city. One by one, their masks activated—eyes glowing, spirits whispering.

When Judah’s turn came, the temperature rose sharply.

Red light pulsed across the yard.
A roar thundered in his skull.

Stand, the Dralio commanded.

Judah did.

“Focus!” Nuru barked. “Control the fire!”

Judah tried—he truly did—but the power surged too fast. Wind swirled. Dust lifted off the ground. Flames flickered around his fists.

Recruits gasped and stumbled away.

“Stop! Pull it back!” Nuru shouted.

But the Dralio was awake, stretching, testing its cage.

Judah screamed—and the energy burst upward in a column of red fire that cracked the training yard tiles.

When it was over, Judah collapsed to his knees, smoke rising from his skin.

Breathing hard, trembling, ashamed.

Nuru stood over him.
He didn’t look angry—just concerned.

“This is only the beginning,” the instructor said.
“Tomorrow will be worse.”