Chapter 62: The Second Flame Rises
The fires of Pyranthos had always been loyal.
They curled through the sky like dragons, shaped by Valeria's will. They whispered secrets in tongues only true heirs could decipher. And until now, they had burned only for her. But something had changed. Somewhere beneath the roots of the flame-throne, a second pulse began to beat—a rhythm not of Pyranthos origin, and not entirely aligned with light.
The coronation hall had emptied hours ago, yet Valeria stood in her ceremonial robes by the eternal flame. Her golden armor shimmered with the residue of divine acknowledgment, but her thoughts were far from celebratory.
Kael still stirred within her, stronger each hour.
And the shadows behind the flames had begun whispering names that weren't hers.
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Far beneath the Pyranthian Vaults...
A circle of flame-walkers chanted around the Obsidian Gate—an artifact said to have been sealed after the first Flame War, a piece of history too cursed to remember. It hadn't flickered for millennia. But now, tiny cracks leaked ember-colored mist. One priest broke ranks and dared to peer closer.
"What is it?" another murmured.
"The gate... it dreams again."
In the center of the gate, a single eye blinked open—molten and crimson. Not a watcher's eye. A soul's.
The Second Flame had awoken.
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Thalor Estate, Council Wing
Jaxon knelt before a mirrored basin, his skin still faintly glowing from the latest divine surge that Kael had unleashed in the womb. Mira had needed a moment alone, her body worn from the god-child's constant power flux.
But it wasn't Kael's energy Jaxon worried about now.
He'd been summoned again—by the same dreams he used to bury.
In the basin's reflection, a silver-haired man appeared: lean, robes of lunar mist, eyes like frostbitten rivers.
"Nereus," the figure said.
Jaxon's throat tightened. "Don't call me that."
"You cannot deny your lineage forever. The Second Flame stirs because your bloodline calls to it. You were not just a Thalor. You were meant to be the Tidebearer—the counterbalance."
Jaxon stood, fists trembling. "And what is the Second Flame?"
The reflection cracked.
"A soul that was once bound to Pyranthos but rejected it. Exiled. Forgotten. But fire never dies. It only waits."
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Valeria's Chambers
Mira—Valeria—sat on the floor, Kael's soft heartbeat echoing like thunder within her. He was calm today. Almost too calm.
Until her hands lit with fire.
Unbidden, her palms glowed. Not her usual amber-red, but deep violet.
"What is this?" she whispered.
"He knows you're watching now."
Kael's voice echoed gently, like a child watching rain.
"Who?"
"The one you forgot. The one you left behind in the first war. The twin flame that refused to die."
Mira gasped, and the walls of her chamber shook. The fire lanterns dimmed, then flared violet in unison.
The Second Flame had not only risen. It had remembered her.
And it wanted what was once denied.
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