The celebration in Kirevale was short-lived.
Scouts returned at dawn, breathless and bloodied.
> "They're coming," one gasped. "Three battalions. Elite Crownguard. Less than two days away."
The fire that had brought freedom now flickered with urgency. The people of Kirevale looked to Elira—not just as a leader, but as their last hope.
She didn't flinch.
> "We hold the city. We prepare. And we don't burn alone."
---
That evening, the rebel commanders met in the bell tower Elira had once lit like a beacon.
Maps were drawn, barricades marked. But even with new oaths sworn, their numbers were slim.
> "We can't fight them head-on," Garran muttered, pointing to the southern pass. "They'll crush us."
Auren stood behind Elira, eyes sharp. "Then we don't fight them on their terms. We give them shadows. Smoke. A storm they can't trace."
Elira nodded slowly. Her mind worked like fire—fast, unpredictable, consuming weakness.
> "We make them afraid of the dark."
---
As midnight blanketed the city, Elira walked alone through the outer district.
Ash still coated the stones. Her flame sparked to life beneath her fingertips, dancing along the rooftops like a whisper.
From the silence, a figure stepped forward—a cloaked woman with silver hair and a face that shimmered strangely.
> "You're the Flameborn," the woman said. "But you're not the only myth that breathes."
Elira stiffened. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly. "A friend. For now. I bring a message."
> "The Crown seeks more than your death. They seek your origin. The truth of the Flame."
Elira's breath caught. "You know what I am?"
The woman tilted her head. "Not yet. But you will. When the fire calls you to the Vault of Embers, follow it. And beware the serpent in silk."
Before Elira could speak again, the woman vanished into the smoke.
---
At the walls of Kirevale, Auren trained new rebels with ruthless precision. Each time his blade struck wood, it was the face of the Council he saw. Or Seraphine. Or the king he once called father.
> "You still fight like a prince," Garran muttered.
Auren didn't look up. "No. I fight like a man who finally knows what he stands for."
---
By dawn, barricades were built. Arrows were strung. Fire pits lined the gates.
Elira stood atop the bell tower once more. This time not to proclaim—but to warn.
> "Let them come," she said to the gathering crowd. "Let the Crown send its army."
Her flame ignited at her back, a ribbon of gold across the wind.
> "We are not afraid of fire. We are the fire."
And below her, the people roared—not with fear, but with fury.
Every spark reveals a secret. If this chapter reaches 10 comments, I'll unveil a hidden truth about Elira's past—one that could change everything.
Are you ready to uncover the fire behind the flame?