The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 47: Chapter 47
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 47: Chapter 47. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
Aeryn
The gates of Nar’Vareth were not made of wood or stone.
They were made of bone.
Polished, ancient, and woven into a ribcage that spanned twenty feet high, the entrance stood like a gaping mouth on the edge of the cliffs, half-buried by vines and silence. Glyphs burned faintly along the threshold — not in flame, but in darkness. A ward of old magic, meant not to keep things out… but to keep something in.
Aeryn stared at the entrance, her embermark tingling faintly against her skin. The closer she drew to the ruins, the more her flame began to thrum—not in fear or heat, but recognition. Memory she didn’t own.
Kael’s hand hovered near the hilt of his blade.
You’re sure we should go in first?”
Aeryn didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers brushed the edge of the scroll her mother had given her. The wax seal had melted days ago. Inside was a map. A single sentence written in Miraen’s careful hand beneath it:
“The answers lie where the world first broke open. Where flame became flesh.”
She stepped forward.
“Yes.”
The inside of the temple was colder than expected.
Not dead-cold—but suspended, as if the air had never moved, as if the dust had never settled, as if time had taken a breath and forgotten to exhale.
They moved slowly, torches drawn, their footsteps echoing off high arched ceilings. The walls were covered in carvings spirals and suns, bleeding figures, roots entangled with flame. Aeryn recognized some of them from Miraen’s scrolls.
The Old Sigils.
Forbidden glyphs used before language was written in ink. These were carved in blood and belief.
They passed a long corridor, where a collapsed statue lay shattered on the floor. Its face—half buried in moss—bore the same mark that pulsed on Aeryn’s skin.
Kael paused beside it. “This place was built for you.”
“Or by something like me,” she murmured.
The first trap came in silence.
No shifting stones. No triggered glyphs. Just a slow draining of warmth, as if the fire within Aeryn began to retreat.
She staggered mid-step, hand on the wall.
Kael caught her instantly.
“Aeryn?”
“I can’t… feel it.”
Her flame.
Gone.
The embermark dimmed.
Kael’s eyes swept the hallway. “Something’s siphoning you.”
His gaze snapped upward. Embedded in the ceiling was a circular ring of runes one pulsing faintly. He grabbed a throwing knife from his belt and flung it with brutal precision.
It struck the rune, and the hallway blinked.
Just once.
Then the warmth returned.
Aeryn gasped, breath returning to her lungs.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Kael looked at her, and his voice dropped.
“Aeryn… that mark on your chest. It’s changed
She looked down.
The embermark wasn’t just glowing.
It was spreading.
Thin tendrils of heat now crawled down her collarbone, curling toward her ribs like vines.
And at the center of the mark… something new shimmered. A shape she had not seen before.
An eye.
Not open.
Not closed.
Waiting.
Kael
He tried not to show it.
But dread gnawed at the back of his mind.
Something had shifted since she’d gone south. He’d told himself it was just the weight of knowledge, the strain of prophecy and motherhood and fire.
But now this was different.
Her flame smelled wrong.
Not rotten. Not dark.
Just… alien.
Kael walked slightly behind her as they entered the next chamber an open rotunda with a glass floor and a raised stone platform in its center. Light from unseen sources illuminated glyphs circling the perimeter. The air was charged.
Aeryn stepped toward the center.
Kael hesitated.
He focused not with his eyes, but with the instincts honed from years in exile. The kind that saved him from poison in goblets and death in dark corners.
Something was buried in her.
Not the child. Not her flame.
Something older. Anchored in her embermark like a parasite in a tree’s roots.
And it wasn’t just dormant.
It was waking up.
She stepped onto the platform.
The floor lit beneath her feet.
Glyphs flared.
And the stone pulsed with heat not hers, but from below.
Kael started forward, but the floor between them suddenly dropped, forming a deep crevice that glowed with magma.
Aeryn stood alone in the center, her eyes wide.
The glyphs began to chant.
Not with sound.
With memory.
Her mind filled with voices not her own.
“You are the Second Spark. Daughter of the Ember Oath. Born of exile. Bred for ignition.”
Kael shouted her name.
She didn’t hear.
“You carry the Seed of Flame. And in the hour of the world’s unraveling, it shall bloom.”
Then: a flash.
A single image flooded her senses
A cradle of fire.
A baby, screaming in light.
And a woman—Miraen—not in robes.
In chains.
Whispering: “Burn only what you choose to keep.”
The chamber blinked.
The floor reformed.
Aeryn dropped to her knees.
Kael was already at her side, arms around her, grounding her back in the now.
She trembled, eyes wide. Her breath came in shudders.
“I saw it,” she whispered. “What they put in me.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. But it wants to be born.”
Later, that night…
They camped within the outer edge of the ruins, near a circular pool where the temple’s original builders once purified initiates. The stars were veiled in mist, and the forest beyond the cliffs
whispered in a language neither of them recognized.
Aeryn sat beside the fire, robe draped over her shoulders. Her flame was calm again, but no longer silent.
Kael sat across from her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
She looked up.
He hesitated.
Then: “If the child has even a fraction of what’s inside you… what happens if the Court gets it?”
Aeryn met his gaze evenly.
“Then we all burn.”
She reached for his hand.
And after a long silence, said: “If you want to
leave—if this is too much—”
Kael leaned forward, cutting her off with a kiss.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just real.
When he pulled back, his voice was steady.
“You’re carrying our child. Flame or not. That makes it mine to protect. And you… you are not alone.”
Aeryn’s hand pressed against his.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”
Far below them, in a deeper level of Nar’Vareth, a stone wall cracked.
A seal broke.
And something ancient opened its eyes.
The gates of Nar’Vareth were not made of wood or stone.
They were made of bone.
Polished, ancient, and woven into a ribcage that spanned twenty feet high, the entrance stood like a gaping mouth on the edge of the cliffs, half-buried by vines and silence. Glyphs burned faintly along the threshold — not in flame, but in darkness. A ward of old magic, meant not to keep things out… but to keep something in.
Aeryn stared at the entrance, her embermark tingling faintly against her skin. The closer she drew to the ruins, the more her flame began to thrum—not in fear or heat, but recognition. Memory she didn’t own.
Kael’s hand hovered near the hilt of his blade.
You’re sure we should go in first?”
Aeryn didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers brushed the edge of the scroll her mother had given her. The wax seal had melted days ago. Inside was a map. A single sentence written in Miraen’s careful hand beneath it:
“The answers lie where the world first broke open. Where flame became flesh.”
She stepped forward.
“Yes.”
The inside of the temple was colder than expected.
Not dead-cold—but suspended, as if the air had never moved, as if the dust had never settled, as if time had taken a breath and forgotten to exhale.
They moved slowly, torches drawn, their footsteps echoing off high arched ceilings. The walls were covered in carvings spirals and suns, bleeding figures, roots entangled with flame. Aeryn recognized some of them from Miraen’s scrolls.
The Old Sigils.
Forbidden glyphs used before language was written in ink. These were carved in blood and belief.
They passed a long corridor, where a collapsed statue lay shattered on the floor. Its face—half buried in moss—bore the same mark that pulsed on Aeryn’s skin.
Kael paused beside it. “This place was built for you.”
“Or by something like me,” she murmured.
The first trap came in silence.
No shifting stones. No triggered glyphs. Just a slow draining of warmth, as if the fire within Aeryn began to retreat.
She staggered mid-step, hand on the wall.
Kael caught her instantly.
“Aeryn?”
“I can’t… feel it.”
Her flame.
Gone.
The embermark dimmed.
Kael’s eyes swept the hallway. “Something’s siphoning you.”
His gaze snapped upward. Embedded in the ceiling was a circular ring of runes one pulsing faintly. He grabbed a throwing knife from his belt and flung it with brutal precision.
It struck the rune, and the hallway blinked.
Just once.
Then the warmth returned.
Aeryn gasped, breath returning to her lungs.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Kael looked at her, and his voice dropped.
“Aeryn… that mark on your chest. It’s changed
She looked down.
The embermark wasn’t just glowing.
It was spreading.
Thin tendrils of heat now crawled down her collarbone, curling toward her ribs like vines.
And at the center of the mark… something new shimmered. A shape she had not seen before.
An eye.
Not open.
Not closed.
Waiting.
Kael
He tried not to show it.
But dread gnawed at the back of his mind.
Something had shifted since she’d gone south. He’d told himself it was just the weight of knowledge, the strain of prophecy and motherhood and fire.
But now this was different.
Her flame smelled wrong.
Not rotten. Not dark.
Just… alien.
Kael walked slightly behind her as they entered the next chamber an open rotunda with a glass floor and a raised stone platform in its center. Light from unseen sources illuminated glyphs circling the perimeter. The air was charged.
Aeryn stepped toward the center.
Kael hesitated.
He focused not with his eyes, but with the instincts honed from years in exile. The kind that saved him from poison in goblets and death in dark corners.
Something was buried in her.
Not the child. Not her flame.
Something older. Anchored in her embermark like a parasite in a tree’s roots.
And it wasn’t just dormant.
It was waking up.
She stepped onto the platform.
The floor lit beneath her feet.
Glyphs flared.
And the stone pulsed with heat not hers, but from below.
Kael started forward, but the floor between them suddenly dropped, forming a deep crevice that glowed with magma.
Aeryn stood alone in the center, her eyes wide.
The glyphs began to chant.
Not with sound.
With memory.
Her mind filled with voices not her own.
“You are the Second Spark. Daughter of the Ember Oath. Born of exile. Bred for ignition.”
Kael shouted her name.
She didn’t hear.
“You carry the Seed of Flame. And in the hour of the world’s unraveling, it shall bloom.”
Then: a flash.
A single image flooded her senses
A cradle of fire.
A baby, screaming in light.
And a woman—Miraen—not in robes.
In chains.
Whispering: “Burn only what you choose to keep.”
The chamber blinked.
The floor reformed.
Aeryn dropped to her knees.
Kael was already at her side, arms around her, grounding her back in the now.
She trembled, eyes wide. Her breath came in shudders.
“I saw it,” she whispered. “What they put in me.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. But it wants to be born.”
Later, that night…
They camped within the outer edge of the ruins, near a circular pool where the temple’s original builders once purified initiates. The stars were veiled in mist, and the forest beyond the cliffs
whispered in a language neither of them recognized.
Aeryn sat beside the fire, robe draped over her shoulders. Her flame was calm again, but no longer silent.
Kael sat across from her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
She looked up.
He hesitated.
Then: “If the child has even a fraction of what’s inside you… what happens if the Court gets it?”
Aeryn met his gaze evenly.
“Then we all burn.”
She reached for his hand.
And after a long silence, said: “If you want to
leave—if this is too much—”
Kael leaned forward, cutting her off with a kiss.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just real.
When he pulled back, his voice was steady.
“You’re carrying our child. Flame or not. That makes it mine to protect. And you… you are not alone.”
Aeryn’s hand pressed against his.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”
Far below them, in a deeper level of Nar’Vareth, a stone wall cracked.
A seal broke.
And something ancient opened its eyes.
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 47. Continue reading Chapter 48 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.