Chapter 2 Ash and Blood
Lyra didn’t remember how long she ran.
The tunnels twisted endlessly beneath Auradyn, a maze of rusted pipes, dripping ceilings, and shadows that whispered. The smell of smoke clung to her hair and clothes. Her palms still glowed faintly, the light pulsing with her heartbeat. Every time she blinked, she saw the dragon’s golden eye staring back at her.
When she finally collapsed, it was beside a half-broken drainage grate. Her lungs burned, her legs trembled. She pressed her hands to her chest, feeling the alien warmth inside her.
The ember hadn’t gone cold. If anything, it burned stronger.
A faint scraping echoed through the tunnels. She spun, summoning a flicker of flame to her fingertips.
“Easy,” came a familiar voice.
Finn stepped into the dim light, his face streaked with soot, eyes sharp and worried. He carried a satchel and a half-broken crossbow, both dripping with tunnel water.
“You look like death warmed over,” he said softly.
Lyra exhaled, letting the fire fade. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m bad at listening.” He sat opposite her, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. “What in the hells was that, Lyra? I saw fire. You were on fire. And that thing…”
“A dragon,” she whispered.
He blinked. “That’s not possible. They’re extinct.”
“I saw it die,” she said, voice trembling. “It… it spoke to me.”
“Spoke?”
“In my head.”
Finn frowned, then dropped the sarcasm for once. “Lyra… what did it say?”
She hesitated. The words still echoed inside her skull, ancient and alive.
> We remember you, Emberborn.
“It called me Emberborn,” she murmured. “I don’t know what that means.”
Finn sat back, expression unreadable. “Whatever it means, the Inquisition won’t care. You burned half the docks to the ground, and Kael Thorne himself tried to bag you. They’ll hunt you till you stop breathing.”
“Then we keep moving.”
He stared at her, incredulous. “You can barely stand.”
“I’ll crawl if I have to.”
She tried to rise, but her vision swam. The fire surged again wild, uncontrolled. She clutched her arm, where glowing cracks raced across her skin like molten veins.
Finn cursed and grabbed her shoulders. “Lyra, stop! You’re”
Before he could finish, the air around her erupted in heat. Flames licked the walls, melting iron. Lyra screamed as light poured from her chest.
Then a cool voice cut through the chaos.
“Enough.”
The fire vanished instantly, snuffed out like a candle.
A woman stood at the tunnel’s end, cloaked in ash-grey robes. Her face was half-hidden beneath a scarf, but her eyes gleamed pale blue in the dim light. Magic shimmered faintly around her fingers.
Lyra gasped for breath, half-blind. “Who who are you?”
“Someone who doesn’t enjoy being roasted alive,” the woman said dryly. “You’re lucky I was following the trail of your fire before the Inquisition did.”
Finn raised his crossbow. “And why were you following her?”
The woman’s gaze flicked to him. “Because she’s about to die. And because she’s the reason dragons might not stay dead.”
Lyra forced herself upright. “What do you know about dragons?”
“Enough to know you shouldn’t have touched one.”
The woman stepped closer. Lyra caught a glimpse of burn scars along her jaw, faint but unmistakable. They glowed faintly, like old embers.
“My name is Eira Solen,” she said. “Once, I worked for the Inquisition as an arcanist. Before I realized what their ‘research’ really was.”
“You were one of them?” Finn said sharply.
“Was,” she repeated. “I left when I saw what they were doing to the dragons. How they kept them alive barely just to harvest their fire.”
Lyra’s stomach turned. “That dragon… they tortured it.”
Eira nodded slowly. “And now its soul is inside you.”
Lyra froze. “What?”
“That light under your skin, the voice you hear it’s a bond. The dragon’s essence has merged with your own. You are Emberborn now half human, half dragonfire. There used to be others like you, centuries ago. But the empire hunted them to extinction.”
Finn let out a low whistle. “So she’s part dragon. That explains the fireworks.”
Lyra ignored him. “Can you get it out?”
Eira’s eyes softened. “I can teach you to control it. But removing it would kill you—and likely release the dragon spirit in a rage that would burn this city to the ground.”
Lyra swallowed hard. “Then teach me.”
Eira studied her for a long moment. “Are you sure? Once you begin this path, there’s no going back. The Inquisition will never stop hunting you. And the fire—if it grows too strong, it will erase the person you were.”
“I wasn’t much of a person to begin with,” Lyra said quietly. “Just a thief trying to survive. If I can use this to stop them to stop what they’re doing I’ll risk it.”
Finn shook his head. “You’re insane. We should run, not play with magic that turns people into torches.”
“You don’t have to come,” she said.
He hesitated, then swore under his breath. “You’ll get yourself killed without me.”
Eira gave a faint, humorless smile. “Then it’s settled. Come. We can’t stay here.”
They traveled through the old aqueducts until the tunnels widened into a cavern lit by faint blue moss. A small camp waited there—bedrolls, books, strange glass instruments.
Eira gestured for Lyra to sit on a flat stone. “Your body is unstable. The bond hasn’t settled. We’ll need to focus your energy before it consumes you.”
She drew a circle of chalk and ash around Lyra, murmuring words in a language that shimmered in the air.
Finn stood at a distance, arms crossed. “You’re sure this isn’t some witch’s trick?”
Eira didn’t look up. “You’re welcome to leave.”
“Not a chance.”
Lyra tried to breathe evenly as Eira placed her palm against her back. The touch burned but it was a controlled burn, steady, guiding.
“Focus on the fire,” Eira said. “Don’t fight it. Shape it.”
Lyra closed her eyes. The ember in her chest flared. For a moment, she saw visions—mountains, storms, endless skies. A memory that wasn’t hers. A dragon’s memory.
Then pain tore through her. Flames shot from her hands, searing the chalk circle.
“Control it!” Eira snapped. “You’re letting fear lead!”
“I can’t”
“You can. Fire is will. You are the flame’s master, not its meal.”
Lyra gritted her teeth and forced the blaze inward. Slowly, painfully, the flames shrank, curling into her palms like obedient serpents.
When she opened her eyes, her hands glowed faintly, golden and calm.
Eira stepped back, studying her with something like awe. “You did it. The first step.”
Lyra exhaled shakily. “That felt like dying.”
“Good. That means you’re alive.”
Finn whistled softly. “I’ll never get used to watching you light up like a lantern.”
“Get used to it,” Lyra said, trying to smile.
Eira began packing up her notes. “The Inquisition won’t stop. Kael Thorne doesn’t take failure lightly. We move at dawn.”
Lyra looked up sharply. “You know him?”
Eira’s expression darkened. “Better than most. He was my commander once. The man believes dragons are corruption incarnate. If he’s seen you, he won’t rest until you’re ashes.”
Lyra’s hand clenched around the faint flame still flickering in her palm. “Then he can come and try.”
That night, long after Finn had fallen asleep beside the dying campfire, Lyra sat awake, staring at her reflection in a shard of metal.
Her eyes were changing—no longer the dull brown she’d known all her life. Now they glimmered like molten gold.
She touched the glow at her throat. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered into the dark.
The answer came, deep and ancient, curling around her thoughts like smoke.
> I am not your enemy, little ember. I am your fire. But I am also your hunger.
“Then teach me to use you,” she whispered.
> You will learn… when you learn to burn without fear.
The fire inside her pulsed once, warm and alive. For the first time s
ince the market burned, Lyra didn’t feel like running.
She felt ready.
Tomorrow, the world would start to notice the girl who played with fire.
And this time, she wouldn’t hide.