Chapter 107 The Ash Beneath the Flame
I didn’t cry when Milo vanished.
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t collapse.
I just stood there, staring into the Rift like it owed me an explanation.
It didn’t give one.
The Void doesn’t explain itself. It just takes.
Virellina was right; she did take everything from me.
Aine told us that we needed to return to Aeloria.
Aeloria was breaking.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Quietly.
Like a house settling before it collapses.
The ley lines were fraying. The stars were flickering. The Flameborn were exhausted. And the people—those who hadn’t fled—were beginning to whisper Milo’s name like it was a curse.
Or a prayer.
Thessa found me in the ruins of the Flamekeeper’s Hall, sitting on a cracked bench that used to be a throne.
“You look like you’ve been emotionally steamrolled,” she said.
“I feel like I’ve been emotionally steamrolled,” I replied.
Kael appeared behind her, holding a half-burnt scroll. “Good news: the King still hates us. Bad news: he’s started writing poetry about it.”
Zeke was feeding Gerald, who had developed a taste for enchanted moss. “He’s coping better than we are.”
Gerald snorted.
Quacknor dive-bombed a broken chandelier and exploded in feathers.
Yuel was muttering about “dimensional bleed” and “Void resonance” again, which was comforting in a profoundly unhelpful way.
Ellira and Lira were sketching a new glyph circle, their hands moving in perfect sync, their expressions grim.
Talon and Aine stood beside me, her silver flame steady. “We need to move.”
“I know,” I said.
“But you don’t want to.”
“I don’t know how to. The more I move away from the rift, the more I feel like I am abandoning Milo.”
The Flameborn had gathered.
Vexa of the Ashborn.
The Kindlers.
The Embercallers.
The Cindersworn.
They were tired.
They were scared.
But they were ready.
“We start with the ley lines,” Vexa said. “They’re bleeding.”
“We need to stabilize the Rift,” Yuel added. “Before it eats the rest of the continent.”
“We need to find Milo,” I said.
Everyone went quiet.
Thessa broke the silence. “Mo, he’s not your brother anymore.”
“He is my brother,” I said. “He will always be my brother.”
“But he was yours,” Kael said. “And now he’s not.”
Zeke nodded. “We all saw it. He chose the Void.”
Ellira and Lira didn’t speak.
Quacknor quacked softly.
Aine placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get him back. But first, we save the world.”
We began in the Emberwild.
The trees were dying.
The flame threads were unraveling.
The Kindlers moved first, weaving healing flame into the roots.
The Embercallers whispered to the wind, asking it to remember how to breathe.
The Cindersworn anchored the ley lines with emberlight.
And I—
I watched. Waited and hoped that Milo's choosing the bad side was just a bad dream. A bad dream that we couldn’t wake up from.
Milo used to love the Emberwild.
He said it felt like the forest was listening.
Now it was screaming.
Thessa joined me at the edge of the clearing.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to pretend?”
“No.”
“Want to punch something?”
“Maybe.”
Kael appeared, holding a broken glyph. “I tried to fix it. It insulted me.”
Zeke was arguing with Gerald, who had decided to eat a flame anchor.
Yuel was scribbling again. “The ley lines are responding. Barely.”
Ellira and Lira activated the glyph.
It pulsed.
Then cracked.
Aine frowned. “Something’s interfering.”
The ground trembled.
The sky dimmed.
And the Rift pulsed.
A shadow stepped into the clearing.
Not Milo.
But something made by him.
A creature of flame and silence.
A Void-forged echo.
It didn’t speak.
It just watched.
Thessa drew her blade.
Kael readied a glyph.
Zeke raised his crossbow.
Ellira and Lira activated shields.
Yuel whispered, “It’s a message.”
Aine stepped forward. “It’s a warning.”
I stepped beside her.
“It’s a test.”
The creature moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
It struck Thessa first, knocking her back.
The flameborn flew into battle.
Kael hurled a glyph—it dissolved.
Zeke fired—it missed.
Ellira and Lira held the shield.
Yuel collapsed a ley line.
Aine surged forward.
And I—
I raised my hand.
The Forgotten Flame pulsed.
The creature paused.
And for a moment—
I was back fighting Milo.
Except this wasn’t Milo.
Then—
It attacked.
I struck.
Not with fire.
Not with memory
But with the forgotten flame
The creature screamed.
And shattered.
The Emberwild trembled.
The glyph cracked.
And the ley lines surged.
I felt the power rip through me.
Breathing hard.
I watched the trees that were broken mend.
I watched the leylines repair.
I felt power rip through the Emberwild, and on the breeze, I hear Milo shout.
“What have you done”
Thessa groaned. “I hate this type of combat. It’s exhausting and emotionally manipulative.”
Kael sat beside her. “I think I am going to cry. Don’t mind me.”
Zeke checked Gerald. “We won’t, and the goat is fine. The duck, on the other hand, has lost its mind.”
Quacknor limped back, building a nest with the remains of the creature we just fought.
Yuel was scribbling again. “We’re inside a recursive memory loop. Milo’s rewriting the past to protect the present.”
Ellira and Lira began a new glyph.
Aine turned to me. “You just made your first direct hit.”
“I know,” I said. “And he’s angry now. Well, angrier.”
The ground pulsed.
The sky dimmed.
And Milo’s voice returned.
“You will pay for interfering, Mo.”
Milo might be the void.
But I am Flameborn.
But I am the Emberleaf.
However, I am the next heir to Aeloria.
Milo might have chosen the void.
But I was choosing to fight for Aeloria as well as Milo.
I knelt.
Placing my hands into the earth.
Thessa joined me.
Lira gathered the water that was in the air.
Kael used his wind.
Ellira used her fire to form heat.
Together we grew the forests, filled the lakes, and fixed what we had broken during our fight.
The trees grew.
Fish jumped from the lakes.