Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Rite of Flame

The figures of fire watched them with hollow eyes—one version of Kaela weeping, the other burning Seralyn alive. One version of Seralyn cradling Kaela in her arms, the other driving a sword through her chest.

Kaela recoiled. "What… what is this?"

The Flame's Memory stood still, his robes flickering like smoke. "The Rite reveals your truths. Your potential. Your ruin. This is the Veil's judgment."

Seralyn stepped forward, jaw clenched. "We didn't come here to be judged. We came for answers."

The Memory bowed his head. "Then you must pass the Rite. Only those who walk through their own flame emerge with clarity."

Before they could question further, the earth split beneath them.

They fell.

---

Kaela landed hard in ash, coughing as heat pressed in from all directions. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the Expanse.

She stood in the ruins of Veyr, her childhood village—the day it burned.

Screams echoed. Flames devoured wood and flesh. Her mother's voice shouted her name from the cottage.

Kaela turned, heart racing. She hadn't relived this in years.

"No," she whispered. "This isn't real."

But her mother ran toward her—young, beautiful, alive. Her arms outstretched.

"Kaela, help me!"

Kaela took one step.

Then stopped.

From behind the illusion, the twisted figure of Yren emerged, smiling. "You've always wanted to save her. But you never could."

Kaela summoned fire, but the flame guttered in her hand. Her power was muted here—reduced to embers.

Yren raised his staff.

"Fight me, child. Or forgive yourself."

Kaela stared at the illusion of her mother—who now burned, screaming. The flames reached for her.

"I'm sorry," Kaela whispered.

She turned her back.

And the fire behind her died.

But the pain lingered.

She collapsed to her knees, sobbing, overwhelmed by a lifetime of guilt.

Then a voice pierced the silence.

"You've carried the weight alone for too long."

It wasn't Yren. It was Seralyn. Or a shadow of her, stepping through the memory.

"I'm not really here," the vision said softly. "But you needed to hear it from someone who believes in you."

Kaela whispered, "Do you?"

"I do."

And the vision faded with a smile.

---

Seralyn landed in snow.

Not real snow. Salt and ash.

She stood at the border outpost she once commanded, where a hundred elven soldiers fell under her orders. The wind howled like their dying breaths.

"Commander," a voice said.

Seralyn turned.

It was him—Captain Veleth. Her second-in-command. The one who begged her not to charge into the ambush.

"I warned you," he said. "And you ignored me. You got us killed."

Seralyn's throat closed. "I thought we could win."

"And what did you win?" he asked. "Glory? Or guilt?"

Snow turned to blood. Armor pierced by arrows. Screams rising.

Seralyn dropped to her knees.

"I carry them every day," she whispered. "I remember every name."

She looked up, tears burning. "But I will not let guilt define me."

She stood.

And the wind ceased.

But another figure approached—this time not of memory, but prophecy.

Kaela.

Not as she was—but cloaked in light and fire. A vision of what might be.

"I chose you," the vision said. "Even when I didn't trust you."

Seralyn reached for her.

And woke.

---

They awoke on the obsidian sand of the Forgotten Expanse, breathing hard. The Flame's Memory knelt beside them.

"You have passed through your fire."

Kaela sat up. Her chest still ached from the illusion. "What now?"

He smiled. "Now you burn together."

From the ashes, a flame bloomed—a golden lotus. In its heart, the third Veil Fragment pulsed like a living star.

Seralyn reached for it.

It did not resist.

The sigils on their skin flared. Not pain this time—resonance. A perfect chord.

The Flame's Memory whispered, "You are closer than you know."

But the moment she lifted the fragment, a shadow split the sky.

Thunder cracked, not from nature, but from magic being torn open. A rift yawned in the distance—lightless and vast.

Kaela's breath caught. "That's not supposed to happen."

Seralyn stood protectively before her. "What is it?"

The Memory closed his eyes. "A tear in the Veil. He knows you've passed. And he moves."

The horizon writhed as black smoke slithered out of the rift—familiar, wrong. Yren.

Kaela turned. "He's coming for the next one."

"No," Seralyn said. "He's coming for us."

Kaela extended her hand.

Seralyn took it.

Together, they turned toward the flame that marked their path.

Toward war.