### Chapter 25 – Fuel for the Fire
The square still stank of blood. Twenty bodies swayed from ropes, their faces purple, their limbs stiff in death. The crows were already at work, tearing at eyes and lips. Draeven's people moved quickly past, heads down, afraid to look too long. But their silence was not surrender—it was a silence sharp as a blade.
From the shadows of an alley, Rennick watched. His jaw was locked, his fists clenched so tight the skin split at his palms. Corin stood beside him, teeth gritted, tears shining in his eyes.
"They killed them for nothing," Corin whispered hoarsely. "Not even rebels. Just… people."
"They were more than people," Rennick said. His voice was low, heavy. "They were a message. Kael and Selara want us to know what happens when we fight."
Marenya approached, her healer's hands trembling. "And if we do nothing, they'll keep killing until there's no one left to fight."
Liora's eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked from corpse to corpse. "Then the Silent Flame must answer. Not with whispers. Not with theft. With fire. With blood."
Rennick turned to them, the weight of command settling on his shoulders like chains. He thought of the boy Kael had lifted by the collar, the mother who begged, the twenty lifeless bodies above the square. He thought of how fear had once kept him silent. Not anymore.
"We answer," Rennick said. "Not as thieves. Not as rats. As the fire they cannot smother."
Corin's eyes burned. "What do we do?"
Rennick's gaze swept across the city, its towers looming like dark sentinels. "We strike where it hurts most. Their soldiers. Their power. We bleed the crown until the people see they can bleed, too."
Davren grinned, his missing eye gleaming. "Now you're talking my language."
The rebels melted back into the alleys, their plan forming like storm clouds.
That night, in the cavern, Rennick laid it bare:
"Kael and Selara rule through fear. If we want the people to rise, they must see the crown can be hurt. Tomorrow, we don't take food. We don't take weapons. We take lives. Soldiers. Officers. Let Draeven see that the gods bleed."
For a moment, silence. Then one by one, voices joined.
Marenya, quiet but firm: "For the innocent."
Liora, sharp and cold: "For the balance."
Corin, trembling but resolute: "For my father. For my mother."
Davren, with a savage laugh: "For blood."
Rennick's fist struck the table. "For Draeven."
The Silent Flame was no longer just a whisper in the dark. It was a promise of fire—and promises, Rennick knew, had power.
Above them, in the palace, Kael and Selara slept under their crowns of cruelty, unaware that the first true act of rebellion was already taking shape.
And when it came, Draeven would burn.
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