Amina collapsed to her knees.
The Pyre of Souls roared before her, but the flames did not burn—they called. Within its dancing tongues, she saw glimpses of herself: as a child, screaming amid smoke; as a girl, fire blooming from her palms; as a warrior, drenched in ash and fury.
And at the center of it all… the truth.
She wasn't merely chosen.
She was made.
"Your tears," the Ember Wraith said, stepping closer, "carry more than sorrow. They carry ignition."
Aric rushed to her side, but Amina held up a trembling hand. "Don't… touch me."
Her skin flickered with gold and red.
Ashar stood still, his eyes hollow with disbelief. "This isn't possible… the Pyre never touches infants. It chooses adults. It marks the willing. Not the helpless."
"But it did," the Wraith murmured. "For the first time in centuries, it chose differently. The flames saw a future—one of chaos and salvation."
Amina rose slowly, the fire inside her crackling like thunder beneath her skin.
"I don't understand," she said. "Why me? Why then?"
The Wraith extended his hand toward the flame. A tendril of fire curled around his fingers like a serpent obeying its master.
"Because even fire fears extinction."
He turned to the Pyre, voice low. "When the Flame Courts began to fall, when the sacred lines blurred with mortal greed, the Pyre knew its champions would be corrupted. It needed a new vessel. One untainted. One burned clean."
Amina's heartbeat pounded in her ears.
"You burned my village."
The Wraith didn't deny it.
"I was the fire," he said softly. "But not the hand that lit it."
The chamber shuddered.
Aric stepped forward, his blade drawn. "Enough riddles. If you know who did this, tell us!"
The Wraith's molten eyes flicked to him. "You want truth, boy? Look to your bloodline."
Aric's sword lowered. "What?"
"Your father," the Wraith said, "lit the spark."
Silence crashed over them.
"No," Aric whispered. "He died protecting the village…"
"He died," the Wraith agreed, "but not as a hero. As a desperate man trying to cover his treachery."
Ashar gritted his teeth. "He's lying. The Ember Wraith manipulates memory."
But Amina knew better. The Pyre flared whenever a lie was spoken—and it remained calm now.
No lies had passed the Wraith's tongue.
The flames shifted, projecting an image onto the chamber wall.
A younger Aric's father—dressed in the garb of a Flame Court mage—stood with a torch, whispering into the ear of a shadowed figure.
Then fire.
Then screams.
Then… a baby pulled from the flames by an unseen hand.
Amina gasped. "That's me."
The image vanished.
"The Pyre saved you," the Wraith said. "But your anger blinded you to its mercy."
She turned to Ashar, searching. "Did you know?"
Ashar's silence said it all.
"You knew." Her voice was low and trembling. "You knew what I was. What I came from."
Ashar looked down, ashamed. "I was sworn to silence. By the Order."
Amina's fire surged involuntarily. The room pulsed with golden light.
The Pyre recognized her now—not just as a vessel, but as its heir.
The flames curved toward her, whispering secrets in tongues she somehow understood.
"She is awakening," the Wraith said.
Ashar stepped between her and the Pyre. "Then we must contain it. She's not ready."
Amina looked at him, her eyes glowing like twin embers. "You don't decide that anymore."
Aric hesitated—torn between loyalty and love.
"I believe in her," he said finally.
Ashar looked betrayed. "Even if she's the flame that destroys us all?"
"She's also the flame that could save us."
The ground rumbled again. This time, deeper.
The Wraith stepped back. "The Pyre has accepted her. But the true trial begins now."
"What trial?" Amina asked.
He nodded to the flame.
And the fire split open—forming a doorway of smoke and light.
On the other side… was a mirror.
But not just any mirror.
It showed Amina, cloaked in fire, standing atop a throne of scorched bones. Her eyes lifeless. Her smile cruel.
"I don't understand," she said.
"That," the Wraith whispered, "is who you become… if you let the fire consume your heart."
Aric reached for her hand. "You don't have to go in."
"I do," she whispered. "Because if I don't face her… she'll become me."
With one final glance back, Amina stepped into the mirror.
And the door slammed shut behind her.