Chapter 5 Embers Of The Broken

Ash drifted from the sky like black snow. The village of Eldranth lay shrouded in smoke and ruin. Craters still smoldered where fire had kissed the earth too long, and the protective runes etched into the town's stone perimeter walls glowed a dull red-fractured, unstable, barely holding together. Liora stood amidst the destruction, her cloak soaked in sweat and soot, her hand still tingling with the aftershock of the mark's awakening. She didn't feel like a hero. She felt hollow.

Kael leaned against a fallen beam near the blacksmith's wrecked forge, wrapping a strip of cloth around a gash on his arm. He glanced at her, but said nothing. Master Dalen emerged from the healer's tent, his face grim. "Six injured. No dead, thank the flame." His eyes flicked to Liora. "But the protection wards are broken. If this was only the first wave..." He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Liora's throat tightened. "It was my fault." "No," Dalen said immediately, his voice rough. "This was always coming. Your presence only revealed how fragile our peace truly was." "But the fire-" she hesitated, clenching her fists. "It responded to me. It broke the Veil. It burned through those things like they were made of shadow." Kael approached slowly. "Because they were. Wraiths from beyond the Ember Veil-fragments of a curse tied to the Flameborn legacy. They feed on awakened magic. Especially yours." Liora turned sharply. "Then why didn't you warn me?" "I didn't think the Seal was truly broken yet." Kael's voice was lower now, guarded. "But that pulse last night... when you touched the Flamegate, it echoed across the realms. They felt it." Dalen knelt beside one of the scorched runes. "These things didn't breach by accident. They were drawn here. They were searching for something-or someone." Liora looked down at her marked palm. "Me." There was silence for a long moment. Then Dalen stood and dusted off his robes. "We need answers. And there's one place left that might have them." Kael raised a brow. "The Sanctum?" "No." Dalen's eyes were distant, stormy. "The Ruins of Virelen. Where the last Circle of Flameborn fell." Liora shivered at the name. She remembered the half-burnt map in her mother's journal. Virelen had been crossed out in red. "I'll go," she said, surprising even herself. "Not alone," Kael added immediately. Their eyes met. And for the first time, Liora didn't flinch from the tension between them. --- Later That Night – The Healer's Tent Liora couldn't sleep. Outside, the wind howled softly through the broken trees. Inside, the healer's tent smelled of lavender and old magic. Dalen sat by the fire, grinding herbs. His hands moved mechanically, but his mind was far away. "You knew this day would come," Liora said quietly. He nodded once. "Not like this. I thought I had more time to prepare you." "You should've told me." "I tried," he said gently. "In lessons. In stories. But I feared that if I told you the truth too early, you'd run-or worse, you'd try to awaken it alone." She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I still don't understand what I am." Dalen looked at her then, eyes tired but fierce. "You are the last ember of a dying flame. And if you go out-so does the hope of restoring what was lost." She didn't know how to answer that. So instead she asked, "What was my mother like?" He smiled faintly. "Bright. Fearless. Too much fire in her for the world to hold. She was everything the Flameborn were meant to be." Liora blinked back tears. "And my father?" Dalen hesitated. Then: "He wasn't one of us. But he loved her. That was enough." --- At the Edge of the Village – Kael's Watch Kael sat atop a half-broken watchtower, sharpening his blade in slow, methodical strokes. The night air was colder than it had been. Or maybe that was just his thoughts. He heard footsteps behind him and didn't need to look to know who it was. "You don't sleep either?" Liora asked. "Not when there's a hole in the sky and half a village burned down." She sat beside him on the edge, dangling her legs over the dark drop. The stars above were clearer now-the storm had passed, leaving only a crisp silence. "You grew up with the Wardens?" she asked. "Not exactly. My parents were hunters. Warden scouts took me in after..." He stopped. "After the Veil shifted. My village didn't survive." Liora looked at him, then out at the woods. "I'm sorry." He shrugged. "It's why I do what I do. I thought hunting your kind would stop this from happening again." "And now?" He exhaled. "Now I think I've been aiming at the wrong enemy." They sat in silence for a while. Then Kael offered, "I can teach you. Not just how to defend yourself-but how to use it. Your flame." She looked down at her hand. The mark glowed faintly, like an ember under skin. "Will that stop them from coming?" "No," he said honestly. "But it'll stop you from being helpless when they do." --- The Morning After – Dalen's Warning By morning, the villagers had begun repairing what they could. The forge had been cleared. Smoke no longer choked the streets. But the scars remained-in the ground, in the minds of the people, and in the air itself. Liora helped an older woman lift debris from a collapsed roof. Children stared at her when they thought she wasn't looking. Whispered words followed her wherever she walked. Flameborn. Witch. Cursed. She couldn't blame them. If she were in their place, she might think the same. Dalen gathered Liora and Kael near the well at the village's center. "You leave at dawn tomorrow," he said. "I'll stay here and hold the wards as long as I can. But Eldranth won't stay hidden anymore." Kael crossed his arms. "And Virelen? What are we looking for?" Dalen opened a scroll and pointed to a ruined temple circled in ink. "There's a relic buried beneath the old Flameborn sanctum. A keystone. It's said to unlock the true potential of the mark-and open the Ember Archive." Kael narrowed his eyes. "If that's true, others will be looking for it too." "They already are," Dalen confirmed. Liora frowned. "And if we find it first?" Dalen looked between them. "Then the Flame may still have a chance to rise." """