Chapter 90 The Emberwild, the Forgotten Flame, and the Blood of Fire
The Emberwild was alive.
Not in the metaphorical, poetic sense. No, it was literally alive.
The trees whispered in languages older than flame. The ground pulsed with buried magic. The air shimmered with heat and memory. And somewhere beneath it all, the Forgotten Flame stirred.
We followed my aunt through the forest, her steps sure, her presence commanding. She didn’t speak much, but when she did, it was like the forest listened.
“You were born of fire,” she said to me. “But you were raised in shadow.” It sounded more like an insult than a compliment.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “That’s comforting.”
She glanced at Milo. “And you. You are the Void’s heir.” I looked at Milo and rolled my eyes.
“I’m working on it,” he said.
She stopped walking. “You shouldn’t be here. Honestly you shouldn’t even exist. It is disappointing that not only your mother disobeyed the royal command, but she had to have two children that shouldn’t exist at all”
“I get that a lot, not from family but from arrogant and misguided people I definitely get that a lot.” Milo replied.
Her name was Seren, and she had once been Flamekeeper before my mother. She had vanished after the Rift War, presumed dead. Instead, she had come to the Emberwild to protect what remained of the Forgotten Flame.
“You both carry legacies that were never meant to meet,” Seren said. “Flame and Void do not coexist. They consume.”
“But we’re not just legacies,” I said. “We’re people. We are also your family.”
“People burn; family members die and betray,” she replied.
Thessa, walking behind us, muttered, “She’s cheerful. What a nice aunt you have. I swear some of the passive-aggressive mail from the Queen and King is nicer than your aunt.”
Kael nodded. “She’s like a motivational poster written by a funeral director. Die and move along, you are holding up the line.”
Gerald the goat trotted ahead, chewing on a glowing fern. Quacknor flew overhead, occasionally dive-bombing squirrels with righteous fury.
“I think Quacknor’s found religion,” Zeke said.
“Or vengeance,” Yuel added. “Hard to tell with ducks. Especially that one.”
We reached a clearing where the trees bent inward, forming a dome of flame-touched bark. Seren raised her hand, and the ground split open, revealing a staircase made of obsidian and ember.
“This is the heart of the Emberwild,” she said. “Where the Forgotten Flame sleeps.”
We descended.
The chamber was vast.
Flame danced along the walls, whispering secrets. In the center stood a pedestal, and on it—a shard.
The Forgotten Flame.
It pulsed with green and violet light, flickering between warmth and cold.
“This is what Virellian seeks,” Seren said. “The flame that unravels.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“It breaks magic,” Yuel said, stepping closer. “It severs bonds. It can undo the Rift itself.”
“She wants to erase the Flameborn,” Seren said. “And rewrite history. Some of the history should be rewritten.” While glaring at both Milo and me.
“She wants to become the only flame,” Milo added.
Seren turned to him. “And you. What do you want? By definition, you are the one who could destroy all.”
“To protect her,” he said, his gaze fixed on me.
Seren’s eyes narrowed. “Even if it means burning everything. How stupid and naïve.”
Milo didn’t answer.
The flame pulsed.
And then—
It spoke.
Not in words.
In memory.
A battlefield.
Flameborn against the Crown.
Seren stood beside my mother before releasing a battle cry and charging forward.
Bob and Calyx Virellian stood in the shadows.
The Forgotten Flame was unleashed.
And everything burned.
I staggered back.
“She used it,” I said. “Before.”
“She tried. It was stupid. The forgotten flame can’t be harnessed with anything other than a completely pure heart.” Seren replied. “But it rejected her. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t pure of heart. Just like Virellian. Expect the only good thing was that your mother was a good person, well better than Virellan.”
“Then how does Virellian have the first shard?” Yuel asked.
“Each shard requires a different ability to handle it,” Seren mutters with a roll of her eyes. “I mean, did you read anything before setting off?”
“We have the second,” I said. “We need to find the rest.”
“There are five,” Seren said. “Scattered across the realms. Do your homework.”
“Then we start a resistance,” Thessa said. “We find allies. We fight.”
Kael raised a hand. “Can we name it something cool? Like ‘The Ember Rebellion’?”
“I vote for ‘Flame Force,’” Zeke said.
“I vote for snacks,” Ellira added.
“I vote for survival,” Lira said.
Gerald bleated.
Quacknor quacked.
“I think they vote for chaos,” Milo said.
Seren stepped forward. “You will need more than names. You will need power. Braincells wouldn’t hurt.”
She raised her hand.
And the flame entered me.
Not the silver.
Not the violet.
The Forgotten.
It burned.
And then—
It settled.
“You are the Flamekeeper, unfortunately,” Seren said. “But you are also the Flamebreaker now. try not to mess everything up.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means you can end this,” she said. “Or begin something worse. Seriously, read a scroll.”
We returned to the surface.
The Emberwild pulsed around us.
And then—
A scroll appeared.
Thessa read it:
Dear Flamekeeper and Associates,
We are aware of your descent into the Emberwild. We are not impressed. Nor was this allowed. Hand over the shard.
We remind you that the Forgotten Flame is forbidden. So are goats in sacred chambers.
We suggest you surrender. Or don’t. But if you don’t, we will send the Royal Flame Historian. He speaks in footnotes and wears despair.
Sincerely (and with a migraine and disappointment),
The one and only Queen & King of Aeloria.
Gerald headbutted the scroll.
Quacknor set it on fire.
“I love them,” Kael said. “So much.”
But the scroll wasn’t the only thing that arrived.
A shadow stepped into the clearing.
Lady Virellian.
She smiled.
“You found it,” she said. “Good.”
Everyone drew weapons.
Flames surged.
The Rift pulsed.
And the war began