The path to the Ember Circle was veiled in silence.
Even Talon, who normally had a sarcastic comment for every twist of fate, walked without a word. The revelations from the Vault still hung heavy over them all. Mara led the way now—not by choice, but by right. The fire inside her no longer stirred with chaos; it pulsed in rhythm with her breath.
They arrived at dusk.
The Ember Circle wasn't a fortress or a tower—it was a ring of standing stones atop a plateau of scorched glass, where the sun never quite set and the sky flickered like dying coals. Twelve monoliths formed the circle, each etched with forgotten runes and pulsing faintly with emberlight.
Waiting in the center were five figures.
Wearing robes the color of smoldering ash, their faces hidden by hoods. One stepped forward. She was old, with fire-scarred hands and eyes like lit coals.
"You bear the Heart," she said to Mara. "And Kael's blood."
Mara didn't flinch. "You knew who I was."
The old woman nodded. "We knew what you might become."
Talon muttered under his breath, "That explains the assassins and whispers."
Serai stepped beside Mara. "Speak clearly, Keeper. No more riddles."
The old woman—Keeper Selyra—bowed her head. "The truth, then."
She gestured, and the flames around the circle surged.
Images danced in the fire: a tower of black stone, a river of molten gold, a single spark falling into the world.
Selyra spoke.
"The Ember Heart was never a gift. It was a prison."
Gasps echoed from Talon and even Serai.
"It holds the last remnant of the Primordial Flame," Selyra continued. "A being born before time, before gods, before balance. The Heart is a cage—and the flamebearers, its wardens."
Mara stared at the fire. "And Kael… tried to unlock it."
Selyra nodded. "He succeeded. Briefly. But he couldn't control it. It changed him."
"And now it's in me," Mara whispered.
"No," said another Keeper. "Now it chooses you."
The fire responded—rising around Mara but not touching her. In its light, shadows twisted into faces—past bearers, kings and queens, warlords and sages. All watching.
Selyra stepped forward. "There are those who wish to worship the flame. Others to consume it. And some… who would rather see it erased from the world entirely."
Talon frowned. "Like the Warden."
Selyra nodded grimly. "And worse. The Vessel Order."
Serai stiffened. "They still exist?"
"They never left," said Selyra. "They seek the Ember Shards—the broken pieces of the original flame. If they gather all seven…"
"They can release what's inside the Heart," Mara finished.
"Yes," Selyra whispered. "And burn the world to its bones."
Mara stepped into the center of the circle. The flames did not resist her. They parted.
"I won't let that happen," she said.
"You'll need allies," Selyra said. "There are others. Descendants of bearers. Keepers lost in exile. One waits in the ruins of Vel Ashir—one of the last to fight beside Kael… and survive."
Mara turned to her companions.
Serai simply nodded. "Then we head east."
Talon smirked. "Always east. Never a beach."
The fire dimmed, but the warmth in Mara's chest grew stronger.
The Heart was stirring again.
And it was no longer afraid.
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