The ruins were still sleeping when the catacombs called to her.
Eira woke before dawn, her breath ghosting in the cold air. Kael was still asleep beside the dying fire, one hand curled loosely around the hilt of his sword, the other beneath his head. His face—so guarded when awake—was soft now. Vulnerable.
It felt like stealing to look at him like that.
But the pull from below was stronger than any warmth.
Something beneath Azareth wanted her.
And it was time to find out why.
---
Descent
The entrance to the catacombs was hidden beneath the throne itself—a circle of stone that shifted when she stepped near it, revealing a winding spiral stairway that dropped into the black.
Eira stood at the edge, torch in hand, her pulse echoing louder than her footsteps.
Kael caught up to her minutes later, half-dressed, breathing hard. His tunic was undone, his hair rumpled. He looked like he'd been yanked from a dream he didn't want to leave.
"I woke up and you were gone," he said, eyes searching her face. "I thought—"
"I had to come," she interrupted. "I felt it. Something's down there."
He stared down the dark. "Then I'm coming too."
Eira put a hand on his chest. "You can't."
His brows knit. "What?"
"I don't know how I know," she said, voice trembling with certainty, "but I do. This part… I have to do alone."
Kael hesitated.
And then, slowly, he reached down and pulled a dagger from his belt, pressing it into her palm. "Then don't come back without a heartbeat."
Her fingers tightened around the hilt.
She nodded once.
And descended into the dark.
---
Below — The Chamber of Fire
The staircase ended in a massive underground chamber, its walls carved in concentric circles, the air thick with magic. Symbols glowed faintly on the stone—amber, molten, alive. The ceiling was domed, and from its center hung a single crystal orb, pulsing like a living flame.
In the center of the room, a wide pool of black glass.
It wasn't water.
It wasn't even liquid.
It was memory.
A voice—neither male nor female—echoed from the walls:
"Eira Wynter. Daughter of flame. Blood of the First Spark. Do you wish to know who you are?"
She swallowed, her hand gripping the dagger Kael had given her.
"Yes."
"Then step into yourself."
---
The Trial Begins
Eira stepped into the pool—and the moment her foot touched the surface, the world split open.
The air ripped with fire. The chamber disappeared. She was falling, not through space, but through time.
Scenes burst around her in flames:
—A child, her hair red as fire, locked in a burning nursery, screaming.
—A battlefield, soldiers kneeling before a woman with Eira's face, fire in her fists, a crown of ash on her head.
—The same woman later, older, eyes hollow, standing over a ruined city.
—A cradle, a baby with her eyes, and hands that smoked.
—Elowen. Younger. Smiling. Whispering to the fire.
"What you are," the voice said, "was never lost. It was hidden. Sealed. To protect the world from what you might become."
Eira fell to her knees in the fire.
"Then why show me now?" she gasped. "Why unlock it?"
"Because the world no longer needs protection from you."
A beat.
"It needs saving by you."
And with those words, the fire turned inward.
It slammed into her chest, igniting something buried so deep she hadn't even known it was broken.
Her back arched. She screamed.
The power came alive.
Not like before—not flickers or sparks or glimpses of heat—but a roaring, consuming sun. It filled every corner of her, lit every vein, turned her fear to fuel and her sorrow to flame.
She burned.
But she did not break.
---
Back in the Chamber
When Eira opened her eyes, she was standing in the pool once more. But now the surface rippled beneath her feet. The fire orb above was blazing. And the runes on the walls glowed like they were bowing.
Her hands trembled.
But the flames on her skin did not fade.
Kael was waiting at the top of the stairs, sword drawn, breath held.
When she emerged, he stared.
Her eyes—once warm hazel—were now streaked with gold.
Her skin glowed faintly, like embers just beneath.
And her voice was not soft when she said, "It's time I stop running."
---
Elsewhere — In the Heart of Elowen's Fortress
The Queen flinched.
Her glass cracked in her hand.
"She's awakened."
A general to her left paled. "Shall I mobilize—"
"No," Elowen hissed, rising from her throne. "She's power now. But she's still flesh."
Her smile was sharp.
"And flesh still bleeds."