The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
The wildlands gave way to cliffs by mid-morning.
Sharp granite teeth rose above them, and mist clung to the valleys like ghost-skin. Birds didn’t sing here. Even the wind moved cautiously.
Aeryn paused at the ridge’s edge and pulled a worn scrap of parchment from her pouch — a fragment of old Flameborn records, one her mother never knew she took.
She traced the faint outline of a half-circle burned into the edges: the mark of an ember sanctuary.
“They’re close,” she said.
Kael nodded, quiet. He hadn’t said much since the fire dream.
But when she looked at him now, there was a clarity behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t running from who he was
anymore.
He was running toward it.
They followed the cliff face until Aeryn spotted a break in the rock — narrow, almost invisible unless you were looking. They slipped through and down a winding, dark tunnel lit only by the emberstone beneath Aeryn’s collar and the shard tucked near Kael’s ribs.
After ten minutes of descent, the air changed.
It smelled of old flame. And salt.
Then the tunnel opened.
A massive cavern bloomed before them — domed stone walls lined with glowing ember veins, a subterranean lake glittering like molten glass, and in its center: an ancient sanctuary carved directly into the stone.
Circular. Silent. Forgotten.But not empty.
A cloaked figure stood at the threshold of the temple — as if waiting.
Kael moved in front of Aeryn instinctively. “Who’s there?”
The figure pulled back their hood.
A man. His features deeply carved, beard streaked with ash-grey, and eyes — like Kael’s — burning faint gold.
“You survived,” the man said, voice thick with emotion.
Kael froze. “You… know me?”
The man stepped closer.
“I knew you before they turned your name into a number.”
Aeryn stepped beside Kael. “Who is he?”
Kael stared.
Then whispered, “His name was Oryn. He was one of the instructors at the Vault.”
Oryn nodded. “I was more than that, boy. I was your protector — until they branded me a traitor and cast me out for trying to save you.”
Kael’s voice broke. “Why didn’t you come back?”
“They told me you were dead.”
Aeryn watched the two of them, something painful rising in her chest. She’d never had anyone fight to protect her like that growing up. Not until Kael.
Oryn gestured for them to follow him into the sanctuary.
Inside, the air was warmer — not with heat, but memory. The walls glowed faintly, etched with names long forgotten and truths the Order had buried.
“You carry the Thirteenth,” Oryn said, looking at Kael.
“I am the Thirteenth.”
Oryn shook his head. “No. You’re more.”
He pulled a leather-bound tome from the altar and flipped to the final page.
There, scrawled in old ink, was a name.
Kael Eryon.
Kael stared.
Aeryn reached for his hand without thinking — and this time, he held on.
Sharp granite teeth rose above them, and mist clung to the valleys like ghost-skin. Birds didn’t sing here. Even the wind moved cautiously.
Aeryn paused at the ridge’s edge and pulled a worn scrap of parchment from her pouch — a fragment of old Flameborn records, one her mother never knew she took.
She traced the faint outline of a half-circle burned into the edges: the mark of an ember sanctuary.
“They’re close,” she said.
Kael nodded, quiet. He hadn’t said much since the fire dream.
But when she looked at him now, there was a clarity behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t running from who he was
anymore.
He was running toward it.
They followed the cliff face until Aeryn spotted a break in the rock — narrow, almost invisible unless you were looking. They slipped through and down a winding, dark tunnel lit only by the emberstone beneath Aeryn’s collar and the shard tucked near Kael’s ribs.
After ten minutes of descent, the air changed.
It smelled of old flame. And salt.
Then the tunnel opened.
A massive cavern bloomed before them — domed stone walls lined with glowing ember veins, a subterranean lake glittering like molten glass, and in its center: an ancient sanctuary carved directly into the stone.
Circular. Silent. Forgotten.But not empty.
A cloaked figure stood at the threshold of the temple — as if waiting.
Kael moved in front of Aeryn instinctively. “Who’s there?”
The figure pulled back their hood.
A man. His features deeply carved, beard streaked with ash-grey, and eyes — like Kael’s — burning faint gold.
“You survived,” the man said, voice thick with emotion.
Kael froze. “You… know me?”
The man stepped closer.
“I knew you before they turned your name into a number.”
Aeryn stepped beside Kael. “Who is he?”
Kael stared.
Then whispered, “His name was Oryn. He was one of the instructors at the Vault.”
Oryn nodded. “I was more than that, boy. I was your protector — until they branded me a traitor and cast me out for trying to save you.”
Kael’s voice broke. “Why didn’t you come back?”
“They told me you were dead.”
Aeryn watched the two of them, something painful rising in her chest. She’d never had anyone fight to protect her like that growing up. Not until Kael.
Oryn gestured for them to follow him into the sanctuary.
Inside, the air was warmer — not with heat, but memory. The walls glowed faintly, etched with names long forgotten and truths the Order had buried.
“You carry the Thirteenth,” Oryn said, looking at Kael.
“I am the Thirteenth.”
Oryn shook his head. “No. You’re more.”
He pulled a leather-bound tome from the altar and flipped to the final page.
There, scrawled in old ink, was a name.
Kael Eryon.
Kael stared.
Aeryn reached for his hand without thinking — and this time, he held on.
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.