The Boy With the Wrong Flame

Chapter 3: The Third Flame

Her name was Lyra.

She told me that before she told me anything else, in a room above a supply depot two streets from the market, after she had checked the corridor twice and came back, before she checked it a third time.

The name of the leader of their group was Soren. Whatever she was about to say, Soren finding out was a genuine concern.

I stayed standing, old habit; never sit when you might need to run..

"Six months ago," she said, "Soren received information from inside Carath Dun's upper districts. About a text, a very old text written in a language not in active use since before the Sundering." She looked at the hourglass in my hand. "It was found on the wall of the first Hollow ever documented. The Hollow beneath the Forged's founding Hold."

"The Forged," I said.

"The governing body of every Kindled in the known Ashlands. They control kindling records, rank assignments, the distribution of Embershard to cities." She turned from the window. "They also control what information about the Eternal Flame exists publicly and what gets buried."

"And this text?"

"Got buried the moment it was found. The Forged sealed the Hollow, destroyed every copy, classified the names of everyone who had read it.” Then she spared me a quick glance. “I hear everyone outside their circle who even knows about the text’s existence was killed." She drew a deep breath and gave me her full attention.. "Soren's source copied a fragment before the Forged reached them."

"What does it say?"

"It calls what you carry the Unwritten Flame," she said. "The third hand of the Eternal Flame. It’s- it’s, not Solaris or

Lunaris. It existed way before the Sundering split the Eternal Flame into two halves." She looked at my wrist. "The text says the Unwritten Flame does not k****e, it- it ignites." Her voice shook as she spoke. "It does not draw from the Eternal Flame the way Solaris and Lunaris do. It draws from the Ashlands themselves."

I thought about the Sandreaver, about the sand rising before I willed it.

Drawing from the Ashlands themselves.

"What rank does it reach," I asked carefully.

"The fragment does not describe ranks. It only describes it as the “Unwritten Flame” because no one knows what it

was. All texts describing it are lost. It says the bearer of the Unwritten Flame will either restore what the Sundering

broke and unite the flames." She held my gaze. "Or put it out entirely."

Now I had to sit or I’d end up on the floor.

I never should have left home.

"Those are the only two options?"

"That is what the text says."

"That is an extraordinarily unhelpful prophecy."

"Yes," she agreed. "It is."

"Soren wants to find the bearer, to do what with them?"

"Train them. Before the Forged do." She crossed her arms. "The Forged have waited for the Unwritten Flame for

eleven years. Since a caravan in the eastern Ashlands was found destroyed. The only found alive was an old man

in Duskwall who reached the wreckage before the Forged did."

I looked at her.

"Orvyn," I said.

"Orvyn." She nodded. "He found two relics on that caravan. Only two. The Forged believes it was no coincidence

that these objects resurfaced after being hidden for centuries. So they took one and let him keep the other because believed it would lead them to the Unwritten Flame. It’s not like Orvyn could do anything with it, no one could." She shrugged. "To any other kindler, it’s just an ugly relic no one would want." She looked at the hourglass. "Until today."

"He was testing me," I said, feeling the room spin "The whole transaction, he… he was testing to see if I would take

it.

She leaned forward. "He was testing to see if the hourglass would respond. The sands are from the Eternal Flame

itself. And I don’t know if Orvyn was testing you, what I do know is that you picked the hourglass when no one ever has. It chose you. And that can only mean one thing."

"I-I want to go home. I don’t want any part in this. You can take the glass. I don’t want it.” But even as I said it, I

knew in my heart that I would rather have my head severed and my heart ripped out at the same time, than let go of

the hourglass.

"We’re past that now." She got up and moved toward the door. "Soren does not know I found you, or at least he

doesn’t know what you are. To be honest, no one knows what you are, but I can protect you from Soren. For now."

She stopped with her hand on the door. "You need to choose which side of this you are on before he figures it out himself. Soren doesn’t take too long to figure things out, so you don’t have any time left."

"No, no, no, you brought me here. You can’t just leave me." I was this close to tears.

"I am asking you to be intelligent." She opened the door, checked the corridor, looked back. "The 972nd shaft; you’ll

go to the mines and ask for Dravek, ask for the 972nd shaft. It’s the worst of the worst and anyone who asks for it has a death wish, Dravek would only be too happy to send you in. I’ll meet you there. Tell me you understand this."

"Yes." Then I drew in a deep breath, "Yes, I understand. 972nd shaft."

She nodded. "See you soon.”

“Ronan. My name is Ronan.”

“Of course.” Then she walked out.

I stood in the empty room and turned the hourglass over in my hand. The dark sand drifted upward, slow and

certain, pointing north and slightly down.

“The Hollow shafts.”

I heard the voice in my head, but it wasn’t mine. Not entirely. But before I could move, the door flew off its hinges. It

flew past me and against the other side of the room, a big, muscular man walked in.

He was bare to the waist and had a scarred torso. There were two-line brandmarks burning red-gold, and his told

me he had been in that corridor long enough to hear everything. Behind him, another man held Lyra by her hair and

had a knife pressed into her side deep enough to stain her gown with blood.

His eyes moved from my face to the hourglass, just like Lyra, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t let it out of my hand

from the second I picked it up.

"Put that down," he said quietly.

I did not.

"The Unwritten Flame," he said slowly. "Standing in a supply depot in Duskwall." He smiled. Now, I was no stranger

to fear "The Forged are going to find this very interesting."

He raised his hand, and the Solaris k****e hit the floor between us and turned the stone black.

It was a warning.

"Come with me," he said. "Or I burn this building down and take you out of the rubble."

Lyra moved.

Her k****e came hard and fast. A wall of ice hit Dravek's next strike and the two forces met in the middle of the room

with a sound like the world cracking.

The shockwave hit me in the chest and I went through the window. The sand from the street below formed into

something that would break my fall. It held for one second, I hit the makeshift platform, it collapsed, and I landed

hard on my side in the street with the breath knocked out of me and the hourglass still in my hand.

The building above me was showing frost on one side and scorch marks on the other.

I looked at the hourglass. The dark sand was swirling faster than I had seen it, and I felt the urgency in my soul.

“North. Down. The Hollow shafts. Now!”

I ran.

Behind me, through the ruined window, I heard Dravek's voice.

"He's heading for the shafts," he said. "Cut him off."

From the rooftop directly above me, a figure dropped into the street ahead.

He was dark as night, and had a four-line brandmark. Blaze rank. The second highest in the Kindled hierarchy.

He looked at me with a wide smile.

"Hello, Ember," he said. "We have waited for you for eleven years."