The Archives of Emberhold – Two Days After the Siege
The Vale still smoldered.
Bodies were buried, walls repaired, and the scent of sap and ash lingered. But Seris wasn't resting. Not while the Hollow Queen had begun to move her pieces.
She had seen the way Ashren fought—how the fire responded, how it spoke to something deep in him. And she had heard Malreth's words:
"You are his echo."
But whose?
In the ruined catacombs of Emberhold's old library, Seris unsealed a vault of banned scrolls and flame-sealed relics. These were the records of the First Flamebearers—kept hidden even from kings.
And as she read through them, names began to echo.
Not just the Hollow Queen's—but her real name.
Vaelira.
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Before She Was Queen
Vaelira had once been a healer in the Dawn Court. Gifted in flame-mending, gentle in nature. She had saved thousands in the first Hollow War.
But her twin brother—Ashrel—had perished in the final battle.
Consumed by darkfire.
She had begged the Flamebearers to bring him back.
They refused.
She turned to forbidden rites—sought the Wound Between Worlds for a price none had dared pay. And when it answered… it didn't give her brother back.
It gave her power.
And took her soul.
She became the first Hollowed.
And her brother?
He was remade in fire… and scattered.
---
Ashren's Bloodline
Seris's hand trembled as she found the last passage:
"One child survived the Hollowed flame. Born of queen and godfire. Hidden in mortal flesh. He will burn the world clean—or join her in the dark."
Ashren wasn't just chosen.
He was Vaelira's son.
Born after her fall.
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Ashren's Struggle
Elsewhere in Emberhold, Ashren fought himself.
The fire within was not silent anymore. It whispered in his dreams, showing him ruins that did not exist, battles he never fought, and a mother cloaked in both light and shadow.
He remembered hands cradling him as a child—hands that felt too ancient.
Was it memory?
Or fire-born fiction?
When Seris found him, he was kneeling before the shattered shrine of the Flamebearers, flames flickering from his skin.
"I know who she is," she said softly.
He didn't look at her. "So do I."
"And I know what that makes you."
He finally turned, pain etched deep in his glowing eyes. "A weapon. Born to kill my own mother."
"No," Seris whispered. "A man… with the choice not to become what she did."
---
The Queen's Reflection
In her mirror pool, Vaelira traced Ashren's face in the glass.
"My son," she murmured.
Not with affection. Not with warmth.
But with hunger.
"You've grown into something beautiful."
She closed her eyes and summoned the next of her generals.
This one did not come from earth or tree.
It came from her dreams.
And it wore Ashrel's face.