Chapter Summary:
Deep within the ancient frost tunnels, Echo begins unlocking the bloodbound flame inside her—a forgotten inheritance that could tip the balance of the entire war. But such power comes with a price, and with Kael and Alara guarding her, the Frostbound High Warden begins moving in the shadows, ready to strike before the ember becomes a blaze.
Chapter 98: Ember of Memory
The ember hovered in her palm, cold and bright—silver, not red.
It pulsed in rhythm with Echo's breath, dimming when she doubted, glowing when she believed.
Alara sat opposite her in the crystalline chamber, cross-legged on a smooth platform of layered frost. The air shimmered between them with residual heat, though no flame burned openly.
"Don't force it," Alara said softly. "Memory fire responds to feeling, not force."
Echo exhaled slowly. "I don't feel anything. Just cold."
"Then remember something warm."
Echo closed her eyes.
First—darkness.
Then a thread of scent.
Cinnamon, oranges… cedarwood.
Her mother's voice, humming the lullaby that once cradled her nightmares away.
"Beneath the ash, the ember sleeps…"
A spark flared in her chest.
Her hands warmed.
The silver ember blazed.
When she opened her eyes, the flame had changed. It was no longer just silver—it shimmered with gold, orange, and white. Like lightning trapped in a drop of sunlight.
Alara smiled. "That's it. You've touched the first layer."
Kael, leaning against the ice wall, crossed his arms. "How many layers are there?"
Alara's smile faded. "Seven. And we don't have time for all of them."
Later, Kael pulled Echo aside while Alara communed silently with the frozen runes.
"You trust her now?" he asked.
Echo looked at him. "I never stopped wanting to."
"That's not the same."
"I know." She studied the emberstone in her palm. "But she risked her life to send us that ring. She's not lying, Kael."
He nodded reluctantly. "I just don't want to lose you."
"You won't." She stepped closer. "But we'll both lose everything if we don't figure out how to end this war."
Kael touched her cheek. "Then let's make sure you survive it."
Training resumed.
Alara guided her through ancient rites: Breath of Flame, Memory Echo, Flame Pulse. Each technique stripped Echo bare—revealing more of what had been buried under years of courtly duties and masked grief.
"I thought the strongest flame was rage," Echo admitted after a difficult session. "But this… this feels different."
Alara's voice was almost reverent. "The deepest fire is grief. That's where the real power lies."
Meanwhile, in the northern bastion of the Frostbound…
The High Warden stood before a mirror of ice.
Within it danced images—flickers of Kael, Echo, and Alara deep beneath the surface.
"They found her," he said calmly. "Soon, she will awaken the forge blood."
A hunched figure knelt before him, face hidden in a frost-marked hood.
"Shall we strike now?" the acolyte asked.
"No." The Warden turned, his cloak shimmering like frozen smoke. "Let her open the door. Only then can we enter."
The ice around them cracked with laughterless mirth.
Back in the tunnels, Echo knelt in front of a carved basin of memory ice. Alara handed her a blade.
"Your blood is the key. One drop for every name you carry."
Echo took the knife and made three shallow cuts across her palm.
"For Alara Vayne, my mother."
The ice glowed red.
"For Myron Haleth, my father."
The ice flared gold.
She paused before the last.
"For Echo Vayne. Queen of Ember."
The basin erupted in silver fire.
The walls of the chamber shifted, revealing a hidden passage. The memory fire danced across the stone, illuminating forgotten glyphs that began to move on their own.
Kael looked around. "What is this place?"
Alara's voice was solemn. "The Archive of Flame. The last untouched record of our origin. Sealed when the kingdoms fell."
They stepped inside.
The Archive was vast, stretching downward like a frozen cathedral. Rows of pillars lined the walls, each inscribed with glyphs from a time before kings. Fire danced along their surfaces as Echo passed, responding to her blood.
A pedestal waited in the center.
Upon it sat a flame-shaped crystal.
Echo reached out.
As her fingers touched it, her vision split open.
A memory—not hers—poured in.
Fire. Sky. A woman crowned in smoke and stars standing on the edge of a world torn apart.
"To burn is to live. But to remember… is to endure."
The woman turned—and Echo saw her own face reflected in the queen's.
"You are the last. Guard the forge within you. Do not let it fall to frost."
The vision shattered.
Echo stumbled back, gasping.
Kael caught her.
"What did you see?"
"Her. The First Flamebearer. My ancestor."
She turned to Alara, breathless.
"She sealed something. Something too powerful to destroy."
Alara nodded. "Yes. The Heartflame. It can restart a dying world… or burn it all away."
"And the Frostbound wants it," Echo finished, the truth crashing over her like a wave.
Kael frowned. "Then we keep it sealed."
But Alara didn't answer.
Because behind them… the walls had begun to melt.
Footsteps echoed.
Cold, deliberate.
The High Warden stepped into the Archive.
"It's too late for locks," he said. "The door has already opened."