Chapter 51: Ember's Crown
The void beyond the Threads pulsed like a heartbeat ancient, waiting, watching.
Lila staggered, the heat from the Threads still clinging to her skin. Her breath trembled in the heavy air, and beside her, Niall held her upright, his face pale but his eyes blazing with determination.
"Are you okay?" he asked, brushing a soot-marked strand of hair from her face.
She shook her head, though not in denial. In awe. In fear. In awakening.
"They're alive," she whispered. "The Threads. They see me. They know me."
Above them, another strand darkened, a streak of black ink in the tapestry of flame.
"If they all unravel," Niall said, following her gaze, "the Creatures will be free."
"Not just free," Lila said. "They'll be here. In our world. No barriers. No seals. No rules."
The Threads hissed, a sound like burning silk, as the air around them thickened. A tendril of flame writhed toward Lila, curling in the air like a beckoning finger.
Niall stepped in front of her.
"No," Lila said sharply. She placed a hand on his arm and stepped forward.
The flame didn't burn.
It wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet, warm and weightless. She gasped as it pulsed against her skin, then slid up her arm in a coil of gold.
A voice spoke again.
"One must be the fire to hold the fire."
Lila's eyes widened. "It's giving me a choice."
Niall looked between her and the glowing coil. "What kind of choice?"
She turned to him slowly. "To become its Keeper. Not just of the Threads. Of the balance. Of everything."
A deep rumble sounded, shaking the chamber. Above them, more Threads began to twist and flicker, turning a sickly, dying red.
Lila stepped into the heart of the weaving fire.
It surged around her, not burning, but changing. Her cloak disintegrated. Her skin shimmered with ember-glow. Marks began to etch themselves along her arms, glowing sigils in ancient tongues. Her eyes turned gold.
In that moment, the Threads stabilized. They pulsed in unison. A heartbeat.
Her heartbeat.
Niall fell to one knee, not in weakness, but reverence. "You're the Crown."
Lila's voice echoed, layered with something not entirely her own. "I am the Crown. But also the Flame. The Seal. The Sword."
The Threads of Fire bowed.
Then, a shriek.
Above through the obsidian walls came a screeching roar. The sound of something breaching the veil.
"They're coming," Lila whispered, her voice grim.
"Then we fight," Niall said.
Lila raised her hand.
The Threads lifted with her.
The war had begun.