The hood fell back slowly.
The face beneath it was not ancient in the way Aria had expected. There were no glowing eyes, no scars carved by centuries of battle. The woman standing before them looked barely past her prime, dark hair threaded with ash gray, skin marked only by faint lines around her eyes.
But the fire inside Aria recoiled violently.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“You…” Aria whispered, pressing a hand to her chest as the embers churned. “You’re an Ember Bearer.”
The woman inclined her head. “Once.”
Kael’s hand tightened around the hilt of his weapon. “That’s impossible. Ember Bearers don’t survive relinquishment.”
The woman’s lips curved faintly. “That’s what the factions tell you.”
Ryn stared at her as though seeing a legend walk out of myth. “You’re supposed to be dead,”
