The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 24: Chapter 24
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 24: Chapter 24. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
The fire-door didn’t burn.
It welcomed.
As Kael and Aeryn stepped through, the air around them shifted — thicker, but not suffocating. More like they had walked into the breath of something ancient. Something waiting.
The ground beneath their boots was no longer stone.
It pulsed.
Roots, veins of emberlight, stretched beneath their feet like the circulatory system of a giant sleeping beneath the world.
And ahead…
A single figure stood at the heart of a clearing.
Cloaked. Barefoot. Holding a staff made of scorched vinewood and glowing glass.
She turned slowly as they approached.
Her eyes were the first thing Kael noticed.
Not flame. Not gold.
But white-hot. Blazing with restraint.
“You’re late,” she said.
Aeryn stepped forward, cautious. “Do we know you?”
“No,” the woman replied. “But I know you. Both of you.”
Kael narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
She smiled — not warmly. Not cruelly.
Just sadly.
“I was once called Mirael. Firstborn of the Rebellion. The last Flameborn the Order didn’t break.”
Aeryn’s breath caught. “You were in the rebellion?”
“I led it,” Mirael said. “And I failed. They killed the others. Sealed the Emberroots. And started their breeding program to make ones like you.”
Kael stiffened.
“So you know what we are.”
“I do,” she said. “You’re not accidents. You’re not destiny.” Her eyes settled on Aeryn. “You’re proof that flame was never meant to choose one path. Destruction or healing. Weapon or balm.”
She stepped closer.
“You are the first in centuries to carry both.”
Kael looked between them. “Then why are we here?”
“Because they’re coming,” Mirael said. “And this time, they won’t send Ashbinders or whispers.”
“They’ll come themselves.”
Aeryn’s mother. The High Flame Court. The ones who rewrote the prophecy. Who erased people like Mirael from history.
Kael stepped forward. “Then teach us.”
Mirael’s eyes burned.
“I can’t teach you what I know.”
“Why?”
“Because your bond,” she said, nodding to both of them, “is something older than even my fire. I can’t train that. I can only guide it.”
She raised her staff.
The clearing lit up.
The roots beneath them formed a circle — wide, precise, ancient. And at its center, a brazier of quiet blue fire began to glow.
Mirael’s voice dropped.
“You’re not here to learn how to fight.”
She looked straight at Kael.
“You’re here to learn how not to lose yourself when you do.”
It welcomed.
As Kael and Aeryn stepped through, the air around them shifted — thicker, but not suffocating. More like they had walked into the breath of something ancient. Something waiting.
The ground beneath their boots was no longer stone.
It pulsed.
Roots, veins of emberlight, stretched beneath their feet like the circulatory system of a giant sleeping beneath the world.
And ahead…
A single figure stood at the heart of a clearing.
Cloaked. Barefoot. Holding a staff made of scorched vinewood and glowing glass.
She turned slowly as they approached.
Her eyes were the first thing Kael noticed.
Not flame. Not gold.
But white-hot. Blazing with restraint.
“You’re late,” she said.
Aeryn stepped forward, cautious. “Do we know you?”
“No,” the woman replied. “But I know you. Both of you.”
Kael narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
She smiled — not warmly. Not cruelly.
Just sadly.
“I was once called Mirael. Firstborn of the Rebellion. The last Flameborn the Order didn’t break.”
Aeryn’s breath caught. “You were in the rebellion?”
“I led it,” Mirael said. “And I failed. They killed the others. Sealed the Emberroots. And started their breeding program to make ones like you.”
Kael stiffened.
“So you know what we are.”
“I do,” she said. “You’re not accidents. You’re not destiny.” Her eyes settled on Aeryn. “You’re proof that flame was never meant to choose one path. Destruction or healing. Weapon or balm.”
She stepped closer.
“You are the first in centuries to carry both.”
Kael looked between them. “Then why are we here?”
“Because they’re coming,” Mirael said. “And this time, they won’t send Ashbinders or whispers.”
“They’ll come themselves.”
Aeryn’s mother. The High Flame Court. The ones who rewrote the prophecy. Who erased people like Mirael from history.
Kael stepped forward. “Then teach us.”
Mirael’s eyes burned.
“I can’t teach you what I know.”
“Why?”
“Because your bond,” she said, nodding to both of them, “is something older than even my fire. I can’t train that. I can only guide it.”
She raised her staff.
The clearing lit up.
The roots beneath them formed a circle — wide, precise, ancient. And at its center, a brazier of quiet blue fire began to glow.
Mirael’s voice dropped.
“You’re not here to learn how to fight.”
She looked straight at Kael.
“You’re here to learn how not to lose yourself when you do.”
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 24. Continue reading Chapter 25 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.