Chapter5
563 Words
Rise of the Ember born:
The sky above Crown City was choked in ash and flame-red clouds. Bells rang in the distance, a sharp warning. The streets bustled with guards, their armor gleaming black like oil, all of them preparing for what had long been prophesied the return of the Ember born.
Selene stood atop the hill just outside the city, cloaked in smoke, her golden Ember markings glowing beneath her skin. Behind her were the other Initiates, those who had survived the Trials, now loyal to her cause. Rafe stood by her side, his face grim.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“No,” Selene said. “But I’ll never be more ready than I am right now.”
They descended.
The outer gates fell easily, not because of brute strength, but because the people within had been waiting. Whispers of the girl with fire in her blood had reached even the deepest corners of the kingdom. Doors opened. Swords were laid down. A rebellion, long suppressed, caught flame.
Selene marched through the city streets with her small force. When the King’s forces attacked, she fought not just with fire but with memory. Every step was for her mother. Every flame she cast was a name remembered from the m******e.
By midday, they reached the palace walls.
There, waiting, was the King.
King Thorne looked nothing like the legends. He wasn’t monstrous or twisted, just cold. His crown of black iron cast a long shadow.
“So you are the last Draxen,” he said, voice echoing. “I should’ve drowned you as a child.”
Selene didn’t flinch. “You should’ve,” she replied. “But you didn’t. And now I’m here to end this.”
Thorne drew his sword, one forged from Emberstone, dark and powerful. Behind her, Rafe tensed.
“Stay back,” she said.
The battle was swift and brutal.
Thorne fought like a man with nothing to lose. His blade clashed with her flames, slicing through stone, shadow, and air. He struck her across the arm, drawing blood. She responded with a burst of golden fire that scorched the throne room walls.
“You fight well,” he hissed.
“I was trained by the fire you tried to extinguish.”
He lunged again and this time, she caught the blade in her bare hands.
The fire in her roared, her veins lit up, and with one final cry, she forced the Ember through the blade and into him.
King Thorne burned not just in body, but in spirit. The shadows screamed as they left him. His crown melted at his feet.
It was done.
The aftermath was quiet.
Selene stood before the people the next day, the Ember crest glowing on her back like wings.
“I didn’t come to rule,” she said. “I came to end what should’ve ended long ago.”
“But who will lead us?” a voice asked.
She looked over the crowd, their scarred faces, their hungry eyes.
“We all will,” she said.
She stepped back, letting the crown remain melted on the floor where it belonged.
Rafe took her hand.
And for a moment, it seemed peace might return.
But deep beneath the palace, in forgotten chambers sealed by fire and time, something stirred.
A whisper.
Not Thorne.
Something older.
Darker.
Watching.
Waiting.
- Writer
