The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 25: Chapter 25
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 25: Chapter 25. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
They came with the dawn.
Twelve flames, riding windless through the southern wilds — burning trails across the sky. Their cloaks didn’t flutter. Their weapons didn’t gleam. They didn’t need spectacle.
They were the High Flame Court.
And they had come to cleanse.
Kael saw them first, standing atop the Emberroot rise. One by one, they descended in silence, surrounding the clearing like judges at a funeral.
Mirael’s jaw tightened. “They found us faster than I thought.”
Aeryn’s flame flared on instinct. “Let’s run.”
No,” Mirael said, calm. “You don’t run from fire. You stand.”
Kael stepped beside her, golden light already curling up his arms. “You’ve faced them before?”
Mirael didn’t answer.
Because the answer was obvious.
She’d survived.
But not without cost.
The circle of fire opened, and through it walked her.
Aeryn’s mother.
The High Flame Priestess.
No longer just a mother or manipulator.
But a full weapon of the old world.
Her voice rang cold and clear. “You’ve delayed enough. This ends today.”
Aeryn stepped forward. “It doesn’t end the way you think.”
“Oh?” Her mother tilted her head. “Then let’s find out.”
She moved like a knife through water — her first strike splitting the ground in two. Kael leapt in front of Aeryn, shielding them both with a wall of golden fire. It held — barely.
Mirael summoned root-fire from the ground, twisting vines into chains that lashed out toward the encircling Court. One judge fell. Another was consumed by silent flame.
But they didn’t stop.
They never stopped.
Aeryn lunged into the fray, her flame now a blade, silver and sharp. Her mother met it with bare hands — fire-forged — and caught it.
“You think you’ve become something new,” she whispered. “But you are nothing I didn’t shape.”
Kael roared and drove his fire forward — a wall of gold meant to push back the lie. The silver in Aeryn’s flame braided with it mid-strike.
Together, they threw the High Priestess back.
For a moment — just one heartbeat — it looked like they’d won.
Then Mirael screamed.
A blade — embersteel, cruelly curved — protruded through her chest.
One of the judges. Silent. Close.
Kael turned too late.
She fell.
Aeryn caught her as she hit the ground, blood like molten glass spreading across her robes.
Mirael gasped, eyes locking with Aeryn’s.
“Don’t let them... rewrite you.”
Then she went still.
Her flame guttered out.
Kael stood frozen.
The world tilted.
But Aeryn didn’t break.
She rose — slowly, deliberately — Mirael’s staff now in her hand.
And when she looked at her mother, her voice came not as daughter, but as something older.
“You broke me once.”
Flames surged behind her, no longer gold or silver — but white-hot.
“But I built myself in the fire.”
Twelve flames, riding windless through the southern wilds — burning trails across the sky. Their cloaks didn’t flutter. Their weapons didn’t gleam. They didn’t need spectacle.
They were the High Flame Court.
And they had come to cleanse.
Kael saw them first, standing atop the Emberroot rise. One by one, they descended in silence, surrounding the clearing like judges at a funeral.
Mirael’s jaw tightened. “They found us faster than I thought.”
Aeryn’s flame flared on instinct. “Let’s run.”
No,” Mirael said, calm. “You don’t run from fire. You stand.”
Kael stepped beside her, golden light already curling up his arms. “You’ve faced them before?”
Mirael didn’t answer.
Because the answer was obvious.
She’d survived.
But not without cost.
The circle of fire opened, and through it walked her.
Aeryn’s mother.
The High Flame Priestess.
No longer just a mother or manipulator.
But a full weapon of the old world.
Her voice rang cold and clear. “You’ve delayed enough. This ends today.”
Aeryn stepped forward. “It doesn’t end the way you think.”
“Oh?” Her mother tilted her head. “Then let’s find out.”
She moved like a knife through water — her first strike splitting the ground in two. Kael leapt in front of Aeryn, shielding them both with a wall of golden fire. It held — barely.
Mirael summoned root-fire from the ground, twisting vines into chains that lashed out toward the encircling Court. One judge fell. Another was consumed by silent flame.
But they didn’t stop.
They never stopped.
Aeryn lunged into the fray, her flame now a blade, silver and sharp. Her mother met it with bare hands — fire-forged — and caught it.
“You think you’ve become something new,” she whispered. “But you are nothing I didn’t shape.”
Kael roared and drove his fire forward — a wall of gold meant to push back the lie. The silver in Aeryn’s flame braided with it mid-strike.
Together, they threw the High Priestess back.
For a moment — just one heartbeat — it looked like they’d won.
Then Mirael screamed.
A blade — embersteel, cruelly curved — protruded through her chest.
One of the judges. Silent. Close.
Kael turned too late.
She fell.
Aeryn caught her as she hit the ground, blood like molten glass spreading across her robes.
Mirael gasped, eyes locking with Aeryn’s.
“Don’t let them... rewrite you.”
Then she went still.
Her flame guttered out.
Kael stood frozen.
The world tilted.
But Aeryn didn’t break.
She rose — slowly, deliberately — Mirael’s staff now in her hand.
And when she looked at her mother, her voice came not as daughter, but as something older.
“You broke me once.”
Flames surged behind her, no longer gold or silver — but white-hot.
“But I built myself in the fire.”
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 25. Continue reading Chapter 26 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.