Chapter 11 – The Emberlands Burn
The wind had turned dry and sharp, carrying the scent of scorched earth and something older — something that whispered of forgotten fire and broken oaths.
Seren's fingers tightened around the leather reins of her horse as the Shadowglass Catacombs faded behind them. The second key pulsed faintly at her side — a shard of obsidian with glowing veins, as if it held its own heartbeat.
She hadn't spoken since they left. Not even to Kael.
He rode beside her, his cloak rippling in the breeze, eyes forward, jaw clenched. Beneath the silver sky, he looked more shadow than man, especially with the blade of a cursed king strapped to his back.
Behind them, Nyara hummed under her breath, trying to ignore the silence swallowing them all.
"You've been quiet," Kael finally said, his voice rough but careful.
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
Seren didn't meet his gaze. "The second key. The visions. That voice in the catacombs… it called me heir. What if the crown isn't just choosing me? What if it's changing me?"
Kael's grip on the reins tightened. "Then we find the third key. We finish this. We end it before it ends you."
She nodded, but the unease lingered. Because deep down… she wasn't sure she wanted it to end.
---
Two days later, they reached the border of the Emberlands.
The green vanished. Trees withered. The ground cracked. Ash fell like snow.
Even Nyara, who rarely looked unsettled, hesitated. "This place died a long time ago."
No one argued. They moved forward in silence, horses slow and restless beneath them.
They weren't just riding into ruin — they were riding into history. The Emberlands had once been home to the dragonkin. Not beasts, but warriors born of fire and oath. Seren could still hear the nursery tales: winged gods who ruled with flame and fury. But this place didn't feel divine anymore. It felt… wrong.
Worse, the third key was rumored to be hidden in the Temple of Flame, deep inside the Emberlands' heart — a place where even maps refused to name.
---
They camped that night beneath a jagged ridge. Seren couldn't sleep.
She stared into the fire, eyes burning, thoughts louder than the crackling wood.
A dream had come again.
She stood on black stone, a crown of thorns ablaze upon her head, as thousands bowed before her. But their faces weren't human. They were scaled. Winged. Dragonborn.
And she was laughing.
That frightened her more than anything.
Kael sat beside her without speaking. Eventually, he offered a flask of water. She took it, their fingers brushing.
"I saw her again," Seren whispered.
"Aru'vethra?"
Seren nodded. "I think she's inside me."
Kael didn't flinch. "Then we learn why. Before she takes you."
---
By dawn, they found the temple.
It was half-buried in black stone, the entrance carved like a dragon's maw. The air shimmered with heat even before they stepped inside.
Nyara cursed softly. "Let's make this quick."
Inside, the world changed.
It was hotter than it should've been. Every wall glowed faintly, as if remembering a fire long extinguished. The key pulsed stronger now, pulling Seren forward.
They reached the altar.
Floating above it was the third key — a fang of ivory laced with gold veins, glowing like the sun.
As Seren stepped forward, something shifted.
The room darkened.
And then, flame erupted from the walls, circling the chamber in a spiral of blinding light.
From within that fire… she emerged.
A woman made of memory and flame. Cloaked in fire. Eyes glowing. A crown of burning thorns on her brow.
Kael stiffened. "Aru'vethra."
The queen's soul did not speak. She showed.
Visions crashed into Seren's mind — a burning throne room, betrayal, a lover's blade, a crown shattered in war. A child ripped from her arms. A scream that broke the heavens.
Seren dropped to her knees.
"Why?" she gasped. "Why show me this?"
Aru'vethra's voice echoed inside her: Because you are me. And you must choose differently.
Seren's mark flared on her wrist. The black shard pulsed. Fire curled around her but did not burn. It welcomed her.
She rose.
And took the fang.
The fire vanished. The queen's soul faded.
Kael caught Seren as she stumbled back, trembling.
Nyara rushed forward. "You touched her spirit — that wasn't just a memory. That was a binding."
Seren could still feel the fire inside her.
"I think… she gave me more than just the key."
---
Outside, the world felt different.
The sky darkened. Ash rose. Thunder rumbled beneath the earth.
Kael stayed close, eyes always watching her now — not like a guardian, but like a man standing near something unpredictable. Dangerous.
"You were glowing," he said quietly. "Like her."
"I know."
"What are you now, Seren?"
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
But deep in her bones, she could feel it. The crown wasn't an object. It was a being. A living force. And she was becoming its vessel.
---
That night, the visions returned.
She saw dragons flying in a spiral around her, bowing one by one. At the center of their circle stood a throne made of bone and flame.
Kael stood at her side, sword in hand.
And below her… a world burned.
When she woke, her fingers were warm with flame. The mark on her wrist glowed faintly.
She wasn't afraid.
Not anymore.