The return to Emberreach was swift, but the weight we carried slowed every step. Though it took only three days to ride from the mountains, it felt like we were dragging the entire northern sky behind us.
I barely spoke. My thoughts churned with what I had seen beneath the ice the monolith, the blade, the Remnant. I had looked into the memory of an ancient soul and felt his warning dig deep into my bones. The Flame inside me, once a source of warmth and certainty, now pulsed with apprehension. The heartbeat I'd heard in the dark had followed me like an echo, a reminder that something terrible had stirred and would not sleep again.
As we descended the winding trails into the valley, mist clung to Emberreach like a second skin. The city, once ravaged by fire and battle, had begun to heal. Homes had been raised anew from scorched earth. Farmers bent over replanted fields. Children ran between buildings again. But something was wrong.
The air no longer hummed with hope. It trembled with suspicion.
Eyes followed us as we passed through the gates. Conversations halted. A mother pulled her child closer when our gazes met. Fear had taken root in the city, blooming in the spaces left by silence.
"She is the Seal."
"She carries the end."
"I heard she spoke to shadows in the North…"
The whispers reached us before any formal greeting. Their fear wasn't just of what I had seen. It was of me.
Lucian rode beside me, eyes sharp and jaw tight. Lira followed close behind, her knuckles white as she gripped the reins of her horse. The wind tugged at her braids, but she didn't flinch. Kieran met us at the foot of the Flame Temple steps, his face grim and his arms folded across his chest.
"You should come with me," he said before anyone could speak.
"Something's wrong," I guessed.
He gave a short nod. "The Council convened yesterday. Special session."
I felt the Flame flicker low in my chest. "Without me?"
"They're deciding whether you should be removed as Flamebearer."
Lira gasped softly. Lucian let out a sharp curse.
I dismounted, spine straightening. "Who called the meeting?"
Kieran hesitated. "Elder Saran. He's building support. Twisting what you saw. What you told us."
I narrowed my eyes. "He thinks I'm a threat."
"He's convinced others of it too."
My hands clenched at my sides. "Take me to them."
The Council Hall was not the same as I had left it. Once a place of sacred purpose and collective wisdom, it now thrummed with uncertainty. The high arched windows let in beams of light that fractured on the polished stone floor, casting uneven shadows that danced as if alive.
The council members were already gathered, seated in their half-moon arrangement of elder seats. Their expressions varied some hard with suspicion, others uncertain, a few mournful. Elder Vira sat silently, her gaze unreadable.
As I entered, silence fell. It was not the reverent silence I once knew. It was thick. Accusatory. Anticipating.
Elder Saran stood. "There she is. The bearer of the Fourth Seal. Or should I say, the herald of our doom."
"I carry the seal," I replied, my voice steady, "but I am not your doom. I am your protection."
Saran sneered. "That is not how others see it. You walked into the North and returned changed. You disturbed ancient power without sanction. You wield a Flame that no one can restrain. Not even you."
Lucian took a step forward. "She faced the ancient magic you all fear. And she came back stronger. She came back alive."
Vira rose. "We've let fear dictate judgment before. It cost us dearly. Aurora stood between us and annihilation more than once. Will we now punish her for surviving again?"
"She did not survive," Saran snapped. "She merged. She is no longer who she was. The Flame within her shifts with every breath. Tell me, Aurora do you even know who you are anymore?"
I met his gaze unflinchingly. "I know enough to recognize fear when I see it. And I know enough to recognize cowardice."
The room buzzed with tension.
Lira stepped forward. "You want to cast her out? Replace her? With who? With someone you can control?"
Saran's eyes glittered. "Yes."
He turned to the side, and the doors opened.
A girl stepped forward barely sixteen, slender and small, with hair like spun flame and eyes that glowed faintly. Her movements were tentative. Her hands trembled.
"She was found near the Riverwatch ruins," Saran announced. "Her village was destroyed. She survived. The Flame awakened within her untouched. She is pure. Untainted."
Gasps rippled through the room.
"She is not the Seal," I said softly. "She is a flicker. The Flame chose her, yes but she cannot carry what I do."
"But she can be guided," Saran replied. "Trained. Molded. You were wild. She will not be."
Kieran growled. "She's a child, not a puppet."
"She's our future," Saran insisted. "One we can shape."
The girl Arenna, they called her looked at me then. Not with hatred. Not with fear. But with confusion. She didn't understand the fire within her yet. Didn't know what it meant to be chosen.
And she certainly didn't know what waited beneath the North.
That night, I sat beneath the old sycamore tree outside the temple walls. Its roots burrowed deep into the valley floor, older than even the Flame itself. Stars glistened above, the wind brushing through the branches like an ancient lullaby.
Lucian found me there, as he always did.
"They're voting tomorrow," he said, sitting beside me.
"I know."
"They'll try to strip you of the Flame."
I shook my head. "They can't. The Flame doesn't answer to votes."
"But the people do," he murmured. "If they lose faith in you... they might follow Saran."
"I'm not fighting them," I whispered. "If they want me gone, I'll go."
His eyes darkened. "Then who will face what's coming? That girl? She doesn't even know what she is."
"She'll die," I said bitterly. "The seal will break. And the world will burn."
Lucian's fingers closed over mine.
"Then we don't let it happen. We fight for the Flame. For the valley. For you."
I turned to him, and in that moment, I let the Flame rise behind my eyes. Not in rage, but in purpose.
"I am the Seal. I am the shield. And I will not break."
But deep beneath the Flame Temple, beyond the reach of starlight or council decree, the blade we had brought from the North pulsed in silence.
It had been hidden. Wrapped in layers of concealment and guarded by ancient sigils.
But someone had found it.
A hand reached for the hilt familiar, calloused. Trusted.
The blade whispered.
And in the dark, it smiled.