Chapter 5 THE ECHO OF THE LAST DRAGON
The mountain had always felt alive, but now Kaelin sensed its pulse as clearly as her own. Every step through the lower tunnels sent a faint vibration climbing her spine, like the Heartstone was still calling her back.
Or like something deep beneath it had begun to wake.
Veyra led them upward again, her expression unreadable in the dim torchlight. Taren stayed close enough that Kaelin could feel the heat of him beside her not nervous, but alert. Protective. Still shaken.
Everyone was shaken.
As they reached the upper hall, rebels turned. Conversations stopped. Eyes followed her not with the suspicion she dreaded, but with a strange blend of awe and uncertainty.
Whispers trailed after her like smoke.
“That’s her.”
“The Emberborn.”
“Did you see what she did in the Spine?”
“Fire like that… gods help the Crown.”
Kaelin kept her gaze forward. If she met their eyes, she would see worship or fear, and she didn’t know which frightened her more.
Veyra brought them into her war room, a cavern carved with old maps and new scars. The table in the center was littered with tokens shaped like forts and flags. Rebel scouts waited there already, dust on their boots and urgency in their voices.
One bowed slightly to Veyra. “Commander. We’ve tracked how they got in.”
“Tell me.”
“Three entrances two collapsed, one forced. They used Fade-ink sigils to distort our wards.”
Taren swore under his breath. “Those are Crown mage tools.”
The scout nodded. “They weren’t searching the outer rings. They headed straight for the lower paths. It looks like they knew what they were looking for.”
Kaelin’s pulse quickened. Of course they had.
Veyra folded her arms. “And the casualties?”
“Four injured. No fatalities.”
A small breath of relief escaped Kaelin’s lips until the scout added, “Because the Emberborn was there.”
The room shifted with the words. Kaelin stiffened.
Veyra noticed.
“Her name,” she said firmly, “is Kaelin. And she is one of us.”
Her gaze swept the room like a blade. “No one here will forget that.”
Silence thickened. The scouts nodded, chastened.
Kaelin swallowed hard. She could fight assassins without fear, but this the weight of being seen was something she had no armor for.
Veyra turned to her. “You need answers. And training. Both start today.”
“Training?” Kaelin asked.
“With me,” a new voice said from the doorway.
A figure stepped into the chamber broad-shouldered, braided hair, a long scar raking down his jaw. His armor was scorched, his cloak edged in ash patterns. Even Taren straightened at the sight of him.
Kaelin recognized him instantly: the Warden of Embers. The rebels’ strongest fire-summoner. A man who once burned an entire Crown outpost to cinders to free his captured fighters.
Commander Rhyven.
He looked her over slowly, not with doubt, but calculation. As though measuring the shape of a sword before testing its edge.
“So,” he said, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “You’re the girl the mountain woke.”
Kaelin didn’t flinch. “It woke before I touched the stone.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Good. I prefer my students fearless.”
Taren cleared his throat. “She’s not your student.”
Rhyven raised an eyebrow. “Do you disagree with her needing training?”
Taren hesitated but only a breath. “…No.”
“Then she’s mine,” Rhyven said simply. “Unless she objects.”
Kaelin didn’t.
Her fire was changing. Growing. It felt like a second heartbeat she couldn’t control. If she didn’t learn to master it, it would master her.
She met Rhyven’s gaze. “Where do we start?”
“Not here. Come.”
Rhyven took her through a series of spiraling tunnels deeper than Kaelin realized existed. Finally, they stepped into a cavern vast enough to swallow a castle. The air shimmered with heat. Magma flowed in slow rivers beneath metal grates. The walls glowed faintly orange like molten veins beneath skin.
“The Crucible,” Rhyven said. “Where Emberborn once trained. Where fire doesn’t behave like fire.”
Kaelin shivered. Her own flame stirred in her chest eager, like it knew this place.
Taren remained by the door. “I’ll watch from here.”
Rhyven smirked. “Ever the loyal guardian.”
Taren didn’t rise to the bait.
Kaelin stepped forward. Heat pressed around her but didn’t burn. It welcomed her.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Let the fire rise.”
She hesitated. “It might”
“Lose control?” Rhyven finished. “Good. Let it. Better here than in a battle.”
Kaelin closed her eyes. She reached inward, searching for the ember spark she had always kept hidden.
It wasn’t a spark anymore.
It was a river of light.
Her breath caught.
The fire surged upward swift, hungry, alive. Heat rippled across her skin. Flames coiled around her arms, weaving like serpents. It didn’t hurt. It felt like exhaling after a lifetime of holding breath.
Syrath’s heartbeat thundered in her skull.
Kaelin gasped.
Rhyven’s voice sounded distant. “What do you see?”
“Wings,” she whispered. “Ash and gold. A sky filled with smoke. A mountain collapsing under fire. A roar that shakes the world.”
Taren stepped forward. “Kaelin!”
She didn’t hear him.
The fire swelled, threads of white-hot flame spiraling upward, forming the vague silhouette of a dragon’s head behind her a shimmering echo made of heat and memory.
Rhyven stared, astonished. “By the gods…”
Kaelin’s knees buckled. The flames flickered, then collapsed inward.
Taren lunged and caught her before she hit the ground. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Sweat cooled instantly against her skin.
Rhyven knelt beside her, expression serious now not impressed, but concerned.
“You touched the dragon again,” he said.
She nodded weakly. “It’s… loud. Like it wants something from me.”
“Dragons don’t want,” Rhyven said. “They choose. And they protect.”
Kaelin looked up at him. “Protect what?”
“You,” he said simply. “Or what you’re meant to become.”
A cold shiver threaded through her. She didn’t know if it was dread or destiny.
Taren brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Enough for today.”
Rhyven stood. “Agreed. We push too hard, she burns.”
Kaelin managed a weak glare. “Not fragile.”
Taren smirked faintly. “You almost collapsed into lava.”
She opened her mouth to argue then realized he wasn’t wrong.
Rhyven offered her his hand. She took it and stood, legs trembling.
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” he said. “Your fire is awakening faster than expected. And that means our time is shorter than we thought.”
“Shorter for what?” Kaelin asked.
A shadow crossed his face.
“For the Crown to find a way to kill you.”
The words settled on her skin like ice.
A sudden horn blast thundered through the tunnels sharp, urgent.
Taren and Rhyven exchanged a look.
Kaelin straightened. “What now?”
Rhyven swore. “Scouts at the ridgeline. Crown riders approaching.”
Taren pulled his sword free. “They’re coming for the stronghold.”
“No,” Rhyven said grimly. “Not the stronghold.”
His gaze locked onto Kaelin.
“They’re comin
g for you.”
Kaelin felt her fire flare to life again, an instinctive response to danger uncontrolled, unrepentant, powerful.
But this time, she didn’t fight it.
This time, she let it rise.
