The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 21: Chapter 21
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 21: Chapter 21. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
The first blast came at dawn.
It wasn’t loud — it was precise. The kind of strike that said: we know you’re here, and we’re not leaving without ash.
Kael and Aeryn rushed to the upper vault just as Oryn sealed the inner sanctum.
“Get to the outer ridge,” he barked. “They’re breaching from the eastern tunnel.”
“How many?” Kael asked.
“Too many.”
Aeryn’s eyes flashed. “Then they’ve made a mistake.”
Kael glanced at her — the way her silver flame wreathed her hands now, steady and sure, sent something sharp and protective through his chest.
They sprinted toward the outer ridge, where the stone arch narrowed to a cliff edge. Just below them, dozens of cloaked soldiers were scaling the pass.
Kael counted. “Twenty. Maybe more.”
“Thirty-seven,” Aeryn said without hesitation.
He smirked. “Show off.”
She smiled faintly. “Try to keep up.”
She extended both hands toward the cliff, and the air shimmered. Silver fire surged forward — not to kill, but to reshape. The rock beneath the soldiers glowed, then cracked.
They stumbled. A few slipped. But the Order’s best didn’t fall easily.
One figure, tall and fast, broke ahead of the rest — blade drawn, cloak fluttering like wings.
Kael stepped forward and dropped into a defensive stance.
But Aeryn touched his arm. “Let me.”
The soldier charged — but as his blade came down, it struck air. Aeryn vanished in silver light and reappeared behind him, her flame dancing along her palm like a whip.
With one movement, she slashed upward — the flame snapped into a glowing arc, knocking the sword from his grip and searing the mark of mercy into his chestplate.
The soldier gasped — and ran.
Kael raised a brow. “You’ve been practicing.”
“I’ve been surviving.”
They turned back toward the ridge.
But the sky darkened.
Ashbinders.
Five of them.
Descending in cloaks of smoldering smoke,
blades humming with embersteel. They didn’t speak. They didn’t threaten.
They simply moved — like executioners.
Kael stepped forward.
And the emberglass at his side responded.
Golden fire flared around him, not like an inferno — but like a barrier. It caught the first blade mid-swing, shattering it with a shriek of light.
Kael’s voice was calm.
“No more running.”
He extended a hand toward Aeryn.
She took it.
And then — it happened.
Their flames merged.
Silver and gold swirled together, spiraling intandem, responding to their hearts — to the trust between them.
Together, they moved.
They were not two weapons.
They were one answer.
Flame danced like light made solid, bending around their bodies, pushing back the Ashbinders, turning sword strikes into sparks, shadows into cinders.
One fell.
Then another.
But Aeryn gasped — her arm nicked by an embersteel dagger.
Kael roared — and for a moment, the sky cracked open.
He caught her as she stumbled, his fire risingbut he didn’t let it consume.
Instead, he placed his hand over her wound, and with her own flame guiding his…
He healed.
The last Ashbinder backed away — not in defeat, but in fear.
They had come to burn.
But now they had seen something else.
Something the Order never taught them to face.
Balance.
Oryn met them at the ridge.
His eyes were wide. “You weren’t supposed to survive that.”
Kael helped Aeryn to her feet. “We didn’t survive it,” he said. “We became it.”
It wasn’t loud — it was precise. The kind of strike that said: we know you’re here, and we’re not leaving without ash.
Kael and Aeryn rushed to the upper vault just as Oryn sealed the inner sanctum.
“Get to the outer ridge,” he barked. “They’re breaching from the eastern tunnel.”
“How many?” Kael asked.
“Too many.”
Aeryn’s eyes flashed. “Then they’ve made a mistake.”
Kael glanced at her — the way her silver flame wreathed her hands now, steady and sure, sent something sharp and protective through his chest.
They sprinted toward the outer ridge, where the stone arch narrowed to a cliff edge. Just below them, dozens of cloaked soldiers were scaling the pass.
Kael counted. “Twenty. Maybe more.”
“Thirty-seven,” Aeryn said without hesitation.
He smirked. “Show off.”
She smiled faintly. “Try to keep up.”
She extended both hands toward the cliff, and the air shimmered. Silver fire surged forward — not to kill, but to reshape. The rock beneath the soldiers glowed, then cracked.
They stumbled. A few slipped. But the Order’s best didn’t fall easily.
One figure, tall and fast, broke ahead of the rest — blade drawn, cloak fluttering like wings.
Kael stepped forward and dropped into a defensive stance.
But Aeryn touched his arm. “Let me.”
The soldier charged — but as his blade came down, it struck air. Aeryn vanished in silver light and reappeared behind him, her flame dancing along her palm like a whip.
With one movement, she slashed upward — the flame snapped into a glowing arc, knocking the sword from his grip and searing the mark of mercy into his chestplate.
The soldier gasped — and ran.
Kael raised a brow. “You’ve been practicing.”
“I’ve been surviving.”
They turned back toward the ridge.
But the sky darkened.
Ashbinders.
Five of them.
Descending in cloaks of smoldering smoke,
blades humming with embersteel. They didn’t speak. They didn’t threaten.
They simply moved — like executioners.
Kael stepped forward.
And the emberglass at his side responded.
Golden fire flared around him, not like an inferno — but like a barrier. It caught the first blade mid-swing, shattering it with a shriek of light.
Kael’s voice was calm.
“No more running.”
He extended a hand toward Aeryn.
She took it.
And then — it happened.
Their flames merged.
Silver and gold swirled together, spiraling intandem, responding to their hearts — to the trust between them.
Together, they moved.
They were not two weapons.
They were one answer.
Flame danced like light made solid, bending around their bodies, pushing back the Ashbinders, turning sword strikes into sparks, shadows into cinders.
One fell.
Then another.
But Aeryn gasped — her arm nicked by an embersteel dagger.
Kael roared — and for a moment, the sky cracked open.
He caught her as she stumbled, his fire risingbut he didn’t let it consume.
Instead, he placed his hand over her wound, and with her own flame guiding his…
He healed.
The last Ashbinder backed away — not in defeat, but in fear.
They had come to burn.
But now they had seen something else.
Something the Order never taught them to face.
Balance.
Oryn met them at the ridge.
His eyes were wide. “You weren’t supposed to survive that.”
Kael helped Aeryn to her feet. “We didn’t survive it,” he said. “We became it.”
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 21. Continue reading Chapter 22 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.