The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 51: Chapter 51

Nar’Vareth Temple – After the Fire
The air smelled of ash and something older like scorched time.
The last Court soldier had fled hours ago, leaving silence in his wake. Nar’Vareth’s stone walls had ceased shifting and groaning. The temple now pulsed with a gentler heat, as though accepting what had happened… or waiting for what came next.
Kael sat by the far wall, back against smooth stone, blade resting across his knees. He hadn’t moved for nearly an hour, only watched the woman in the center of the chamber his woman.
Aeryn.
The fire had finally gone quiet inside her. Her embermark had dulled from blazing gold to soft bronze, and the dangerous flickers of energy around her had settled into a warm, rhythmic pulse.
She looked peaceful now. But Kael knew better.
Her peace was earned through war, sacrifice, and the strange, painful miracle growing within her.
Aeryn stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly, then flicked toward Kael. He smiled gently but didn’t rise.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said, voice soft.
He tilted his head. “Didn’t want to.”
A pause.
“I wasn’t sure… if you’d be here when I woke.”
Kael’s face softened. He rose, crossed the short space between them, and knelt.
“I’m always here,” he murmured. “Even when you scare the stars.”
She chuckled faintly. “You saw that?”
“I felt it. The child’s flame… it reached me, too.”
He touched her abdomen carefully. “She’s more than a spark now.”
Aeryn nodded slowly. “She woke during the fight. Not with words. With instinct. Protection. Rage.”
“She’s already like you.”
She glanced up, teasing. “Fiery?”
Kael smiled. “Terrifying.”
They sat in silence for a long while.
Aeryn leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder.
“This feels stolen,” she said after a moment. “Like the world will come crashing back any second.”
“It might,” Kael replied. “But not yet.”
They listened to the wind swirl through the cracks in the stone above them, carrying no voices, no footsteps, no danger.
Only time.
Later Rebellion Outpost
Liora read the dispatch twice.
Her hands trembled even as she forced her voice to remain steady. “Varenth is dead.”
Silence.
General Rhys stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “Who sent this?”
“One of our shadowrunners in the lower court. It was confirmed by two independent camps.”
Rhys exhaled sharply. “Aeryn did this?”
Liora didn’t answer right away. She touched the flame-shaped pendant at her throat—the one Aeryn had once given her.
“She did more than kill a Seer,” she whispered.
“She ended an age.”
Court Stronghold The Shattering Hall
Panic was a quiet thing in the high circles of the Court.
There were no screams. No chaos. Only movement swift, strategic, and vicious.
The remaining High Council members gathered in the Shattering Hall, speaking in hushed tones behind ice-forged veils. Varenth’s robes lay folded in the center of the room, burned through at the chest.
“What do we tell the people?” one asked.
“That she’s unstable,” another said. “That the flame corrupted her.”
“That she’s carrying something unnatural,” whispered a third.
A new voice—older, silkier—cut through the murmurs.
“She’s not carrying power,” said High Consul Maevra, stepping into the hall.
“She’s giving birth to a god.”
The silence after that wasn’t fearful.
It was hungry.
Nar’Vareth Later that night
The stars were clearer now.
Aeryn and Kael sat on the temple’s outer ledge, wrapped in blankets, a small fire flickering between them. The sky above was ink-blue, scattered with cold light.
Aeryn tilted her head, resting it against Kael’s.
“Do you think she’ll be like us?” she asked quietly. “Or something else?”
Kael’s arm slid around her waist. “I think she’ll be both. And more.”
A pause.
“I’m scared,” Aeryn admitted. “Not of her. Of what the world will do to her.”
Kael turned to face her fully, brushing her hair gently behind her ear.
“Then we protect her. Together.”
His lips found hers soft, grounding, slow.
And Aeryn leaned into it.
Not because of the battle.
Not because of the child.
But because it was them.
For the first time in days, they weren’t fire and shadow.
They were just two people. Wrapped in each other.
Unseen Deep in the South
A flicker in the mirrorpool.
A girl’s reflection. Golden eyes. Curled flame hair.
The seer watching the water trembled.
“She’s awake.”
A deeper voice behind her asked, “And the father?”
The seer closed her eyes. “His shadow is no longer dormant. The bond is complete.”
A slow breath. “And the prophecy?”
The water shifted.
And the seer wept.
“She will burn the gate of heaven… or she will open it.”