The Flame Inside
930 Words
Cael
He woke choking on smoke.
Not real smoke—memory smoke. It curled in his lungs like regret, thick and hot and cruel.
Therin’s hand was on his chest, runes glowing.
“You’re back.”
Cael blinked. The sky was dark. The monolith loomed behind them, fractured. Myra sat a few feet away, rubbing a scorched shoulder. Her sleeve was torn, her face unreadable.
“I didn’t mean to—” Cael began.
“You nearly killed her,” Therin said flatly.
The words sank like stones in his chest.
“I don’t remember it,” Cael whispered. “I just… the fire rose, and I felt him. Like something in my bones cracked open.”
Therin nodded grimly. “The Crown fragment did this. It doesn’t just remember kings—it tests them.”
“I’m not a king.”
“You carry the blood of one.”
Cael shook his head. “That’s not possible. My parents—my village—”
“Were chosen for you. Perhaps even lied to. You think the Crown would fall into just anyone’s hands?”
Myra finally spoke, her voice rough. “You’re changing, Cael. Whether you want to or not.”
He met her eyes, guilt clawing at his ribs. “I would never hurt you.”
“You already did.”
Silence.
Then Cael looked up at the stars, where strange constellations shimmered faintly.
“I keep hearing her,” he said softly. “Liora. In my dreams. In my thoughts.”
Myra’s lips thinned. “That’s dangerous.”
“I know,” Cael said. “But it also feels… right. Like there’s something in both of us that fits.”
Therin rose.
“Then we need to find her. Before the other Flamebound do.”
⸻
Liora
The wind bit colder than she expected.
Even with the desert behind them and the smoldering plateaus of Emberfall ahead, the air grew sharp with unease.
Ashren hadn’t spoken since the shrine. The three cloaked figures who’d joined them—calling themselves the Ashguard—followed at a polite but constant distance, whispering in a language older than Liora’s own bloodline.
She didn’t trust them.
But she also didn’t trust herself.
Not anymore.
She’d started dreaming things—memories that didn’t belong to her. She saw cities burning from the inside out. People bowing. Fire shaping their bones. A voice—low, immense, familiar—saying:
“You are the lock. Because once, you were the flame.”
She hadn’t told Ashren.
Instead, she walked faster.
Ahead, the land sloped toward a broken watchtower, half-swallowed by lava rock. Ashren caught up to her as she knelt to inspect the path.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“I’m not afraid.”
“I didn’t say you were.” His gaze lingered. “But you’re burning.”
She looked at him sharply. “What?”
“You think the flame only chose Cael?” Ashren asked. “You’re both part of it. One to unlock. One to bear. You’re the blade and he’s the hand.”
“I’m not a weapon.”
“Every seal is a blade if it’s broken.”
Liora turned away. “I won’t let the past define me.”
Ashren was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Then you’d better prepare to fight it.”
⸻
Cael
The mountain path was steep and blackened with old fire scars.
They made camp at the rim of a collapsed caldera, glowing faintly from magma beneath. Cael sat apart from the others, fingers curled tightly around the crown fragment.
He could hear it again.
Not words—but pressure. Like thoughts that didn’t come from his mind. Urges.
Take. Burn. Reclaim.
He closed his eyes and forced breath through his teeth. No.
Not him. Not yet.
“You’re struggling.”
He looked up.
Myra stood there, arms folded, a simple blade at her hip.
He didn’t answer.
“I’ve seen that look before,” she said. “In soldiers. Just before they broke.”
“I’m not breaking.”
“No. You’re fighting. And that’s good.”
He glanced down. “I hurt you.”
She shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”
“I need you to know I never wanted—”
Myra cut him off. “Wanting’s irrelevant. What matters is what you do next.”
He met her gaze. “And if I can’t control it?”
“Then I’ll stop you.”
Simple. Direct. And somehow comforting.
He nodded.
But inside, the fire whispered differently.
⸻
Liora
They reached the final ridge at nightfall.
Below, the Emberfall Valley spread out in fractured glory—stone towers bent toward the sky like burnt fingers, and at the center, Cael’s flame glowed.
Liora saw it from miles away. Not a beacon. Not a flare.
But a memory awakened.
She gasped.
The dreams were real.
She had been here before.
Not in this life.
Not as Liora.
But as someone else.
Something else.
“You remember,” one of the Ashguard said behind her.
She didn’t turn. “It was a lie.”
“No,” he replied. “It was a truth so terrible you chose to forget.”
Ashren stepped beside her, face dark. “Now you understand why we need to be careful.”
“I’m not the enemy,” she said through clenched teeth.
“No,” he agreed. “But you might be the door he walks through.”
Liora looked down at the valley.
And she felt Cael looking back.
- Writer
