The Inner Keep – Night After the Duel
Ashren couldn't breathe.
Not properly.
The fire inside him no longer flickered—it roared. Every heartbeat stoked it. Every emotion sharpened its fangs. He could feel it crawling under his skin, begging to be unleashed, to scorch everything.
He hadn't slept since facing Ashrel. Not because of fear—but because of what he enjoyed in that battle.
Power.
It was raw and terrifying, but it felt right.
Seris noticed it first—the tremble in his hands, the way his pupils flickered like candlelight, the way his voice had grown… colder.
"You're losing yourself," she said.
"No," Ashren whispered, staring at his own burning palm. "I'm finding what I was made for."
---
The Ember Trials
At the advice of Caelis, the last Flamebearer elders led Ashren into the Chamber of Ember—a sealed temple where chosen fire-wielders once faced visions forged by their own souls.
Only one had survived it in the last five centuries.
He agreed, desperate to learn control.
Inside, there was no light but flame.
No time, no walls—only memory, twisted and waiting.
He saw his childhood: a village burned to ash, a woman screaming, his mother's face warping into Vaelira's.
He saw the Vale crumbling, friends dead, Seris begging him to stop.
He saw himself, eyes hollow, body crowned in fire, sitting on a throne of cinders.
And he liked it.
---
The Trial's End
Ashren emerged two days later, barefoot and drenched in sweat, fire trailing from his skin like mist.
He said nothing.
But something had changed.
When Seris touched him, he flinched.
His eyes had gone brighter… and more empty.
"What did you see?" she asked.
He turned to her slowly. "A future."
"And?"
"It scared me."
"Did you fight it?"
"…No."
---
The Hollow Queen's Smile
Far to the west, Vaelira stood atop her black tower, watching the flames in her mirror swirl with images of Ashren in the Ember Chamber.
"You are close," she whispered.
She turned to Ashrel.
"He walks the edge now. One push."
Ashrel, still bandaged from their duel, watched silently.
"I don't want to break him," he said. "Not like I was broken."
Vaelira's voice chilled the air. "You don't get to want. You get to obey."
Ashrel didn't answer.
But in his heart, something stirred: regret, guilt, and a dangerous hope.
---
Seris's Decision
That night, Seris stood over Ashren as he slept—his breath smoky, skin warm like embers. She remembered the boy who smiled in secret, who helped rebuild the Vale brick by brick.
He was slipping.
And if no one acted, he'd become the very monster they were fighting.
She clenched her jaw.
If she had to drag him back from the fire… she would.
Even if it burned her alive.