Chapter 15: The shape of a scar

The days that followed passed in smoldering rhythm.

Training. Planning. Kisses stolen in shadows.

But Ember was beginning to feel the burn beneath the surface—something she couldn't name. Like pressure building behind her ribs, waiting to break.

Kael was always near. His hands always warm. His presence, grounding. But sometimes, when he looked at her, it felt like he saw the flame, not the girl.

And that scared her.

The morning air was sharp with cold when Talon summoned her again.

This time, he didn't take her to the caves. Instead, he led her into the hills above the forge, to a clearing circled by obsidian pillars.

"What is this place?" Ember asked.

Talon unslung two short blades from his back. "Where I learned to fight."

"You want to spar?"

"I want you to stop waiting for the fire to save you."

He tossed her a blade.

The duel began slow. Ember wasn't as skilled with steel as she was with flame, but she moved like heat—fluid, reactive, alive.

Talon was patient. Precise.

Each time she lunged, he parried. Each time she struck, he moved just enough to avoid the blow.

"You're holding back," he said.

Ember gritted her teeth. "You'd rather I burn you?"

"I'd rather you trust yourself without needing your gift."

She growled and lunged again.

This time, he didn't dodge. He caught her wrist mid-swing and twisted—gently but firmly—until she dropped the blade.

They stood chest to chest, breaths uneven, eyes locked.

And then Ember saw it.

A scar—running across his jaw and down his neck. Faint, but brutal.

"Who gave you that?" she asked softly.

Talon's grip eased.

"My brother."

He stepped back, turning from her.

"We both served the Flame King once. I believed we were doing the right thing. Until I watched him burn our mother alive for hiding a mage child."

Ember froze.

"You were loyal to my father?"

"I was loyal to what he promised," Talon said, voice tight. "Justice. Order. Balance. But he lies. Always has."

"And your brother?"

"Still believes in him. He wears red now. High rank. Cold heart."

Ember swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's why I know who Kael used to be too."

She blinked. "What?"

Talon met her gaze, cautious. "Just… watch him. Power changes people. Especially when it's handed to them after they've bled for it."

That night, Ember didn't return to Kael's bed.

She wandered the forge halls instead, hands trailing along warm stone, heart a tangle of doubt and heat.

Kael found her by the old well.

"You didn't come to me," he said quietly.

"I needed time."

He stepped closer. "Are you pulling away?"

"No," she whispered. "But I think I need to learn who I am… without anyone else's fire lighting the path for me."

Kael touched her face. "You're still mine, Ember. Aren't you?"

Her lips parted, breath caught.

She didn't answer.

Elsewhere – The Rebel Campfire

Rowan stood before the Dagger Circle, arms crossed.

"She's shifting," he said. "Kael's hold is loosening."

"She's opening to Talon," the woman in grey armor replied.

"Good," Rowan said. "Let the fire choose its shape."

"And what if it chooses us instead?"

Rowan smiled grimly.

"Then it won't be Kael who burns."