CHAPTER 16:THE EMBERBORN LIVES

We tracked him for two days.

Lord Harland Veris was clever, but he wasn't quiet. Burnt cloth caught on a branch. A broken horseshoe in the mud. The marks of a man desperate to disappear but too arrogant to check his trail.

I kept my hood up and my mouth shut. Kael and two Draeven elites handled the front. I stayed near the rear—close enough to follow, far enough to think.

Because what if we caught him?What if he's connected to Rhys Talven's appearance in Draeven?

And what if he knew something?

My fingers kept drifting to the blade at my side. I wasn't sure if I'd use it to silence him—or demand answers.

We found him at dawn.

A ruined outpost, long-abandoned, hidden near the cliffs. Cracked stone walls. An old Virellian banner half-buried in the snow.

Valen motioned for silence.

Kael circled right. I followed him left, the cold biting through my sleeves.

Inside, Harland was hunched near the fire—muttering to himself, scribbling over a faded scroll.

He didn't see us until Valen stepped into the light.

"You didn't run far enough, Lord Veris."

Harland stilled.

Then slowly, he looked up—and smiled.

"Ah," he rasped. "The prince. And his pet swords."

His eyes swept across us… and stopped on me.

"You," he said. "You shouldn't be here."

Valen's blade was out in a flash. "You betrayed the crown and conspired with Virellian agents. Tell me why I shouldn't end you now."

Harland laughed. "Because you need what I know. You're too noble for cold blood, boy. Just like your father."

Valen's jaw clenched.

"Speak. Fast."

Harland's grin widened.

"You think Virelia fell? No. It thrives. Just not under its rightful rulers."

My throat tightened.

"The throne was taken by men who wear no crowns. Mages. Seers. Spies. They whisper commands, and the foolish Emporer obeys."

Valen narrowed his eyes. "Caelan is emperor."

"Caelan is a puppet!" Harland shouted. "A boy-king bound by blood magic and old prophecy. He doesn't rule. He follows orders."

I couldn't breathe.

Kael shifted beside me. "And what's your role in this? Just another pawn?"

Harland chuckled.

"I was cast out. Banished. But the Circle offered me a way back. One task. Simple."

He looked at me again.

Eyes burning now. Calculating.

"Bring proof that the Emberborn is dead."

Silence fell like a blade.

Valen stiffened. "The what?"

"The last spark of the old blood," Harland whispered. "Daughter of the flame. The one who escaped fire and throne. If she lives, the shadows fear she'll rise. Because they know the fire is still in her."

His gaze locked with mine.

And I knew.

He'd seen it.

"It's you," he breathed.

"The Emberborn lives."

Time slowed.

Valen's head turned—toward me. Kael's mouth opened, but no words came.

I stepped forward, voice low.

"You said you needed proof."

Harland grinned. "And I just found it."

Then he lunged.

Not at me.

At the scroll beside the fire—covered in names, seals, hidden ink.

I moved without thinking.

Blade out. Flash of steel.

One strike.

He fell.

---

I stood over him, chest heaving.

Kael reached for the scroll. "It's encrypted. Can't read it here."

Valen looked at me. Just looked.

Not with suspicion.

Not yet.

But with the kind of silence that meant questions were forming.

I turned away.

---

The flames crackled beside us, eating through the Virellian banner.

Ash drifted into the wind.

The Emberborn lived.

And the shadows knew it now.