Chapter 5: The Mother of Ashes

The crypt air tasted of rot and iron, the walls slick with moss. Kael's dagger hovered at the throat of the woman chained to the chair. Her face was his mother's—the same sharp cheekbones, the same green eyes that haunted his dreams. But her voice… her voice was wrong. Too cold. Too steady.

"You're not her," Kael said, pressing the blade deeper. "She died screaming."

The woman laughed, a sound like rusted hinges. "Screaming? Yes. Dying? No. The Burner's fire is… selective." She tilted her head, revealing a scar identical to Kael's, jagged from collarbone to jaw. "Cedran told you I perished in the flames. A lie to bury his shame. He sold me to the Bloodsworn to atone for siring a bastard."

Vessa gripped Kael's arm. "This is a trick. Kaelthar left her here to bait you."

"Kaelthar didn't leave me," the woman croaked. "She did."

Behind them, a shadow shifted. The Ashbringer stepped into the flickering torchlight, her gray cloak singed but her eyes blazing. "Hello, Lirael. Still chained to your regrets?"

Kael froze. Lirael. His mother's name, unspoken for decades, hung like a curse.

The Ashbringer raised her dagger, its runes glowing. "The Burner honors old debts. You betrayed him, Lirael. Gave his child to a craven lord." She pointed the blade at Kael. "But the Bastard will burn brighter."

Lirael spat. "You're too late. The Duskwardens have him now."

Before Kael could react, the Ashbringer lunged. Her dagger grazed his scar, searing like molten iron. He stumbled, vision blurring—and saw memories not his own.

A younger Lirael, kneeling in a Duskwarden sanctum, swearing oaths over a shard of the Obsidian Throne. Cedran Varynth, broad-shouldered and sober, lifting her from the gutter. A Bloodsworn ritual, flames swallowing her screams as they carved the scar into her neck.

Kael wrenched free, gasping. "You let them brand me. You let them take me."

Lirael's chains rattled. "I let you live. The Burner's covenant demands a sacrifice. Cedran gave them me. I gave them you."

The Ashbringer struck again, but Vessa intercepted, their blades clashing. "Run!" Vessa shouted. "Find Lysara!"

Kael hesitated, his scar pulsing with the throne's pull. Lysara was upstairs, surrounded by Kaelthar steel. Lirael was here, a ghost of the mother he'd mourned. A liability or a weapon?

The Ashbringer's laughter echoed. "Choose, Bastard. The sister you pretend to hate, or the mother you never knew."

He chose neither.

Kael sliced Lirael's chains and hauled her upright. "You want redemption? Earn it."

She met his gaze, green eyes flaring. "The throne's shard in the keep's foundation—it's killing the girl. Lysara's no heir. She's a vessel."

Above, Varynth Keep trembled. Kaelthar soldiers clashed with Borin's crew in the great hall, Seraphine's Dawn Pact fire illuminating stained-glass windows shattered by siege stones. Lysara huddled beneath the cracked obsidian throne, her hands bloodied from picking the shard's jagged edges out of the stone.

"Stop!" A Kaelthar captain yanked her by the hair. "Lord Errick wants that relic intact!"

Lysara sank her teeth into his wrist. "Then let him choke on it!"

The shard glowed, its shadows writhing. Lysara's borrowed green eyes flickered black.

The Obsidian Throne's shard pulsed in Lysara's palm, its shadows coiling around her like serpents. The Kaelthar captain staggered back, clutching his bleeding wrist. "Witch!" he snarled. "You'll burn for this!"

Lysara rose, her borrowed green eyes now pools of void. "I've burned enough."

The shard's power surged. Black tendrils lashed out, impaling the captain mid-scream. His body disintegrated into ash, swirling into the shard's hungry glow. Around her, Kaelthar soldiers froze, their blades trembling.

"Kill the girl!" one shouted.

They charged. Lysara closed her eyes—and the throne answered.

.....

Kael dragged Lirael into the keep's crumbling corridor, the shard's resonance throbbing in his scar. Screams echoed above, mingling with the stench of charred flesh.

"Your sister's awakening the throne," Lirael said, breathless. "If it claims her, the Burner wins."

"Then we kill the Burner," Kael snapped.

"You can't kill a god. But you can replace him." Lirael gripped his arm, her touch ice-cold. "The throne needs a vessel. Let it take her… or take it yourself."

He shoved her against the wall. "You don't command me."

"No," she hissed. "The throne does. It's in your blood. In hers. Cedran's line was always meant to feed it."

A explosion rocked the keep. Through the dust, Kael saw Lysara—changed. The shard's tendrils writhed beneath her skin, her small frame radiating darkness. Kaelthar soldiers lay shattered around her, their armor rusted to dust.

"Lysara!" Kael shouted.

She turned. Her voice echoed, layered with a thousand whispers. "You left me. Like he did."

The throne's power lashed at him. Kael ducked, rolling behind a pillar. "Fight it, Lysara! This isn't you!"

"Isn't it?" She floated toward him, the floor cracking beneath her. "You're just another liar. Another thief."

Lirael stepped forward, hands raised. "Child, listen—"

Lysara flicked a wrist. Shadows hurled Lirael across the hall. "You first."

....

Vessa staggered into the fray, blood streaking her temple. The Ashbringer followed, her dagger dripping venom. "The girl is lost, Bastard. Join the Burner… or burn with her."

Kael's scar blazed. He lunged, not at the Ashbringer, but at Lysara. Tackling her, he pried the shard from her grip.

"Let go!"

"NO!" Lysara's scream split the air. The throne's power recoiled, thrashing like a wounded beast.

Kael slammed the shard against his own scar.

The world went black.

.....

When he awoke, the shard was gone—absorbed. Lysara lay unconscious in his arms, her eyes restored to their natural brown. Around them, the keep's stone wept black ichor.

The Ashbringer knelt, coughing blood. "You… stole his power."

"Borrowed," Kael said.

Vessa pressed a blade to the prophet's throat. "End her."

"No." Lirael limped forward, her face gaunt. "She's bound to the Burner. Kill her, and his wrath will consume us all."

The Ashbringer laughed weakly. "Clever Lirael. Always hedging bets."

Borin and Seraphine stormed in, weapons bloodied. "Kaelthar's retreating!" Borin barked. "But there's another problem."

He pointed to the sky. The Eclipse hovered above, its cannons aimed at the keep.

Mira's voice boomed through a speaking horn. "Surrender the shard, Bastard. Or we'll reduce your precious keep to slag."

Lirael sighed. "The Duskwardens always collect their debts."

Kael stood, cradling Lysara. "You want the shard?" He raised his scarred hand, still smoldering with the throne's residue. "Come take it."

The Eclipse's cannons charged.