Chapter 147: The Silent Flame
The scent of the vision clung to Isla’s skin, wildflowers and smoke. Even as she sat up in the war room, surrounded by the Fortress’s murmurs and movements, her breath still carried the warmth of Lucira’s embrace. Raven knelt beside her, calm but concerned, a bowl of cold water in her hands.
“You were gone longer than before,” Raven murmured.
Isla dipped her fingers into the water, grounding herself. “She took me further. Past the Gate. To a memory of before.”
Raven’s dark eyes flickered. “Of Lucira?”
“And of Corven,” Isla whispered. “He’s alive in that realm, or what’s left of him is.”
Raven stilled. “You saw your father?”
Isla nodded, tears stinging her eyes. “They spoke of another Flame. A lost part of me. Her name is Elandra. She’s… not my twin, exactly, but something born of me. She was hidden a long time ago.”
Silas stepped into the tent as the last word fell, his face unreadable. “Elandra.”
“You know the name?” Isla asked.
He hesitated only a breath. “No. But I know the pattern. Prophecy-born children often fracture under pressure. Especially when that prophecy involves the Veil.”
Raven looked sharply at him. “You’re saying she isn’t separate? That she is Isla?”
“No,” Silas said. “I’m saying she was Isla. Once upon a time that is. Before the bloodlines fused, before the full mark of the Gate chose her.” He turned to Isla. “The trauma of carrying the four bloods, Veyra, Sombrosi, Umbrazin, and the Old Flame of the children of the Moon, protectors of the realm. It could have split something within you to keep you alive.”
“Lucira said she was silent. That she didn’t cry when she was born.”
“Because she wasn’t born to live,” Silas said gently. “She was born to hide. To keep a part of you safe.”
Isla looked down at her belly. The child stirred softly. “And now Cassian is looking for her.”
“Then we need to find her first,” Raven said.
They all rose together.
Later that day, under the sharp grey sky, Isla stood with Damian, Leo, Brienne, and Rohen near the armory, watching maps being laid over makeshift tables. The air smelled of leather, iron, and dust. The Fortress was slowly coming alive again, its stone bones creaking under the new life being breathed into it.
Rohen tapped the northern region of the map with a black-gloved finger. “If what you’re saying is true, the only region with a surviving hidden cradle site is here. The Caves of Nireth. Deep old magic. Protected by mists and time.”
Brienne frowned. “I thought the Nireth were sealed off by the Elders during the last war.”
“They were,” Damian confirmed. “Which means if someone wanted to hide a sacred child fragment of the Flame there, it would have been the perfect place.”
“And the worst place to reach now,” Leo muttered. “It's surrounded by Veylun cult remnants. Sombrosi faithful. Even some vampire-born.”
“They’ll all be after her too,” Isla said. “Elandra isn’t just a secret anymore. She’s bait.”
“And blood,” Damian added. “To complete a corrupted Flame ritual, Cassian wouldn’t need your death, Isla. Just hers.”
That truth settled cold and hard between them.
Alaine appeared at Isla’s side, her hands brushing Isla’s shoulders protectively. “Then we go tonight. We take only those who can move fast, without detection.”
Damian's eyes met Isla’s. “Are you strong enough?”
She nodded. “I have to be.”
By dusk, the group was chosen.
Isla, Damian, Raven, Silas, Leo, Brienne, Alaine, and Rohen.
Not an army, too risky. Just a small unit bound by loyalty and necessity. Marcus would stay behind with the different factions to safeguard the fortress. Damian didn’t want Marcus interfering seeing that Cassian was who he was after all.
They weren’t taking horses nor motorbikes this time.
They had been gifted an old Umbrazin vehicle: a sleek, jet-colored, reinforced vehicle of steel and light. Runes shimmered across its hood. It could travel over broken earth without faltering. Alaine called it Asterion. A storm-born engine.
When Isla first saw it, she laughed through her exhaustion. “A car? That’s what we’re riding into prophecy with?”
“Not just a car,” Alaine said, smirking. “A tank built by Umbrazin engineers and forgotten gods.”
Brienne opened the rear door. “Get in before the wind changes. Something’s stirring.”
As they loaded their weapons and packs, Raven hesitated beside Silas. “Did you know about this Elandra fragment? About the split?”
“I suspected,” he admitted. “But I had no proof. Not until now.”
“And if we find her?”
Silas didn’t look at her when he answered. “We hope she remembers how to burn.”
They drove into the dark.
The lands beyond the Fortress were still healing from the last unmaking. Cracked earth glimmered with veins of silver where old magic had bled into the soil. The forests were quiet. Even the rivers hummed with anticipation.
Isla sat in the passenger seat beside Damian, her hand always close to her stomach. She could feel the child within responding to something far away.
Like a mirror calling to its reflection.
“I wonder,” she said softly, “if Elandra is afraid.”
Damian glanced at her. “Or if she’s waiting.”
Behind them, the rest of the group slept in shifts or whispered softly about strategy. But Isla didn’t sleep because now, more than ever, she felt the shape of fate curling around her. Not like a noose, but a key.
If she could find the lost flame, she could relight the world. If she failed…The Veil would shatter and god only knows what would happen.