33. Chapter 33 #2
“My sister, Eve. She betrayed my family and left me to die.” Her lips curled bitterly.
“And the worst part? I don’t even know if I blame her.
We were just a broken family pretending to be whole.
” Ren’s voice turned brittle. “Fifteen years ago, my parents were murdered, my house was burned down, and I was left for dead in a body bag and tossed somewhere on the road. My sister was behind everything that night. I don’t know how, and I still don’t know why.
” Her voice turned fierce, bitter as she gritted, “I was the one who set the blaze that killed some of the bastards. But there were too many.”
Ren’s voice was hoarse as she stared past the flickering sconces along the stone wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest like she could contain the weight of her words. “She wanted it to be her,” Ren said quietly.
“Wanted what?” Talen asked.
“The night our house went up in flames… that was some kind of ritual. I’m not sure what, but I remember some of them murmuring wh at sounded like prayers or chants. Surely, my sister planned it. Perhaps she thought if she lost enough, the fire would awaken in her.”
She paused. Talen filled the silence quietly, “Flameborne.” He earned a sharp glance from Kaelin.
Ren nodded. “Flameborne lineage runs in blood, but it can stay dormant until something ignites the spark.”
Talen murmured, “I’ve read that the Flameborne are awakened when pushed to the brink.
Their magic lies dormant until a moment of intense emotional upheaval, most commonly a near-death experience, or the soul-shattering loss of someone they hold dear.
In your case, your loss of innocence. For Flameborne, grief and fury act as catalysts.
When they are broken, the fire rises to remake them.
It is the soul’s final act of defiance, igniting when all else has been stripped away. ”
Kaelin’s gaze flicked toward Ren, then back to Talen. Her lips curled into a small sneer. “How poetic. Forge a mortal through suffering and call it destiny.” Kaelin tilted her head at Ren. “I’m curious about what you’ll become once the fire settles.”
“Perhaps that’s what Eve thought,” Ren wondered aloud. “She thought she could call it to her. But it wasn’t her the flames chose.”
She recalled the roaring in her ears as the flames closed around them, scorching her parents’ lifeless bodies. And though her own clothes seared under the heat of the flames, the heat did not harm her.
Ren raised her chin. “It chose me.”
“I’ve noticed your magic doesn’t come from harnessing the fire around you.
” Talen said. “Even with the old bloodlines, elemental fire wielders don’t create fire.
They manipulate what already exists. They pull from the world around them.
But you…” He tilted his head at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You conjure it from nothing.”
Ren remained quiet, Zakhar’s words from earlier lingering. Talen made the second person to conclude the observation about her magic.
Kaelin’s gaze lingered on Ren. “Then you’re Flameborne,” she said simply.
The word fell across them like a death sentence.
Ren understood why. She knew about the legends.
Flameborne were a rare bloodline believed to descend from dragons themselves, beings who could summon and breathe fire from within.
She didn’t know as much about their magic abilities but knew they were given a reputation for a reason amongst magic folk.
“You poor, furious thing,” Kaelin drawled. “You think you’re still the same girl from that burning house, but you’re not. You were forged in that fire.”
Ren’s throat worked. “I’m not – ”
“A threat?” Kaelin smirked. “Oh, but you are. That’s why I am particularly coming to understand you.”
Talen’s expression darkened in disagreement. “You’re not a threat, Ren.”
“I don’t want to be a threat,” Ren whispered.
“Then let us help you. You came to us with this information, which shows we can all trust each other and be allies in this cause,” Talen explained.
“Careful, dear brother,” Kaelin purred, taking a sip of her wine. “Say ‘trust’ and ‘allies’ in the same breath again, and I might think you’ve gone soft. Or worse. Optimistic .”
“As much as I enjoy being the mortal tangled in fae politics and prophecy…” Ren looked between them pointedly, “The realm might stand a better chance if we stop quarreling and scheming and work together.” She shrugged, voice edged with irony.
“Strange times, when trusting fae sounds like the reasonable choice.”
Kaelin’s eyes glinted. “Strange times indeed.” Then she added, “Never a dull moment here in our kingdom, wouldn’t you agree?”
At that, Ren couldn’t help but breathe a laugh.
The moment shattered as the doors slammed open behind her.
Zakhar entered like a storm. His face was drawn, pale beneath the streaks of ash and sweat.
Everyone stilled.
Zakhar didn’t speak at first. He stepped forward, his heavy boots echoing on the stone.
Talen spoke first. “What happened?”
Zakhar exhaled slowly. “The western trenches. The field pyres. They were meant to contain the infection, stop the spread.”
“Didn’t they?” Ren asked.
Zakhar shook his head. “The bodies we’ve burned – they’re rising .”
Talen visibly stiffened. Kaelin’s wine glass cracked in her grip .
Zakhar’s voice was grim. “And they’re hunting. They’re organized. Some even speak names.”
The firelight guttered in the hearth.
And Ren knew with bone-deep certainty: something had awakened.
Something that would not rest until the living were dead.