When Fire Remembers

Chapter 13 - Into the Dragon’s Den

“We’ve discussed this already, Saelwyn. I’m going!”

Runi had already gone to bed; now Aksanaa and Saelwyn were alone in the forge.

“No, we haven’t discussed it, Aksanaa. You simply said you would go—and didn’t even ask for my opinion.”

“I don’t need your permission, Saelwyn.”

Saelwyn let out an annoyed breath, like he was trying hard to stay patient.

He stepped closer to Aksanaa, who stood beside the forge. Slowly, cautiously, he extended his hand toward her face—hesitating just before touching her. When Aksanaa didn’t pull away, he gently cupped her cheek.

“What happened to us, Aksanaa?”

Aksanaa didn’t answer, just held his gaze.

“We used to be so close. Inseparable. But you’ve grown more distant each day, and no matter what I do, I feel like I’m being pushed further away.”

Aksanaa looked down at her hands, avoiding his eyes. Saelwyn gently lifted her chin.

“What happened, Aksanaa?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to escape the weight of his gaze. Then, in a throaty, low voice filled with emotion, she spoke:

“When you found me, I was hopeless. Barely alive. But you fed me, cared for me, held me through nights filled with nightmares. I can’t deny that, Saelwyn—you’ve done so much for me. But you shouldn’t have. Please don’t. Even in my happiest moments, I feel like a cloud of sorrow follows me, ready to strike the moment I let myself feel safe. So no, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m… broken.”

“You’re not broken!” Saelwyn snapped, his voice edged with pain. “Do you hear me? You’re not broken, Aksanaa. You’re wounded. And I’m here—willing to help you heal. To wrap your wounds, to remind you how to feel whole again. I’m here to hold you, to help you believe again.”

“No, Saelwyn. Don’t talk like that. I won’t let anyone get close again. I won’t. I can’t.”

“But Aksanaa—remember the forest. The days we spent together. Weren’t they good? Didn’t they prove what we could become?”

“What we had was fun. But I can’t keep doing this to you. Because it’s not just fun for you anymore, Saelwyn. And I don’t want anyone’s heart anymore.”

Saelwyn’s hand dropped from her cheek. Aksanaa walked past him and stopped at the creaking door. Before leaving, she turned her head just enough to speak over her shoulder:

“I’m going to the palace tomorrow at midnight. Runi said that’s when the guards change shifts. If you want to come, you can. But I’m going—no matter what.”

She turned her face forward again and left.

Saelwyn remained standing in the room, staring at the forge—like someone had just punched a hole straight through his chest.

The next day, Aksanaa woke up early to gather everything they might need for the mission. She and Runi prepared light weapons—throwing stars, small daggers, and of course, Aksanaa’s stolen dagger and small axe. Before noon, they moved closer to the castle just to scout the area ahead of time.

Runi drew maps and explained the layout of the castle corridors like she walked through them every day. The rebellion’s intel was more detailed than Aksanaa had expected.

Saelwyn hadn’t shown up all day. Apparently, he had no intention of joining Aksanaa since he didn’t approve of her plan. But his absence didn’t change her mind. If she could help, she would.

Night came faster than expected. And with each passing minute closer to midnight, tension started creeping up Aksanaa’s spine. She and Runi were hiding at the spot they had agreed on that morning, watching the clay guards patrol the main gates. Nasty beasts—but not very smart. If they could be distracted, it should be easy enough to slip past them. Right?

Their plan was simple: create a distraction just as the guards at the inner castle entrance switched shifts. That way, Aksanaa could sneak inside. The rest? That would depend on her memory of the maps and descriptions Runi had shared.

“I really feel bad about this, Aksanaa,” Runi whispered. “It should be me going in—or Saelwyn. Not you. But this stupid leg won’t let me.”

“Don’t worry, Runi. I promise I’ll do just as good a job as you would’ve.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey. Just… be safe, okay?”

“Promise,” Aksanaa said. They shared a brief hug, then looked at each other one last time before splitting up.

Runi hobbled toward the gates and started a staged argument with another rebellion member. The clay guards, ever short-tempered, stepped in almost immediately. Aksanaa only hoped Runi’s leg wouldn’t slow her down when she needed to slip away—but Runi had insisted she’d be fine. She just needed to make a scene.

While the guards focused on the chaos, Aksanaa slipped through the outer gates like a whisper on the wind. Her steps were light. Not as light as an elf’s, maybe—but close enough. Annoying, stubborn elves.

She crossed the castle garden, sticking to the shadows of the trees. A few patrols passed nearby, but she managed to avoid them. When she was finally close to the main entrance, she waited in silence for the clock tower to strike midnight.

At the sound of the bell, the guards moved—just like Runi had said. Aksanaa slipped inside, undetected. But what she didn’t realize was that she had used up all her luck getting that far.

She crept through the corridors, opening the doors Runi had marked in their plan. Most of them were unimportant—cloakrooms, guest chambers, empty ballrooms (as if dragons had any real sense of civility). The deeper she went, the more her tension gave way to exhaustion. The castle was massive. Simply walking its halls felt like a punishment—and she had to stay alert, ducking behind statues, vases, and staircases at the slightest sound.

She couldn’t see who had entered the room, but only one set of light footsteps remained. Good. One was gone. Easier to take down one person than two, she thought. She could either wait for a distraction and escape through the balcony… or fight. She preferred the latter—though Runi wouldn’t approve. So she chose the first. For now.

Besides, if she could stay quiet enough, maybe she could keep exploring the castle. There had to be something important here.

She waited. The footsteps stopped. Maybe whoever entered had left again. She decided to risk a peek.

She slowly pulled the curtain aside, just a c***k—only to find herself staring at a white linen shirt stretched across a broad chest.

A long, lean torso. And before she could even register what she was looking at, an arm reached through the gap, yanked her out from behind the curtain, and slammed her down onto the floor in a blur of motion.

She grunted as the weight of a powerful body pinned her down. The scent hit her first—ash and ice. It was familiar. Unmistakable.

She looked up—and met eyes like frozen fire.

Daghan.

He was on top of her, holding her wrists down, fury burning in the cold blue of his gaze. His voice rumbled low and dangerous, as if it came from deep within a mountain.

“You came, thief. On your own two feet…”