The journal burned slowly.
Not like parchment.
Not like history.
But like truth.
Each page turned to ash reluctantly, as if it didn't want to let go.
Selene watched it crumble from her palm into the brazier she'd lit inside the founder's tomb.
The old chamber smelled of dust and secrets.
And something else:
Smoke that didn't rise.
Ingrid arrived minutes later, breathless, holding a scroll from the city archivist.
"They found something," she said, unrolling the paper. "It was buried in the old temple vaults."
Selene didn't look at it yet.
"More lies?"
"Maybe."
"Or maybe another piece of their game."
Ingrid unrolled it fully.
The map wasn't one of streets or walls.
It was a vein map.
Lines of fire-energy running beneath Karron, down to the mountains, back to Veredon.
At the center of it all?
The tomb where Selene stood.
She stared at the drawing in silence.
Then lowered the map and whispered:
"This isn't a city."
"It's a gate."
That night, she returned alone.
Armed not with guards or steel, but with a candle and a single rune-etched key found in the bottom of the governor's private vault.
She descended past the tomb's first level.
Deeper than before.
Stone gave way to iron.
Iron gave way to glass.
And then she found the door.
Round. Seamless.
Etched with flame motifs and a phrase written in a tongue older than her mind could fully translate.
But she understood it anyway:
"The first flame does not rule. It remembers."
She inserted the key.
It clicked.
Then groaned.
And the door opened with a breath of heat that felt alive.
The chamber beyond was vast.
Circular.
Lit only by a single fire floating above a pedestal in the center of the room.
The fire didn't flicker.
It pulsed.
As if breathing.
As if watching.
Selene stepped forward slowly.
The heat didn't bite.
It embraced.
Like recognition.
Like home.
Like memory carved into blood.
And then the voice came.
Not aloud.
In her bones.
"You are not the first."
"But you are the first who came back."
Selene didn't speak.
She closed her eyes.
Listened.
"They buried me when they feared my fire would choose its own path."
"They crowned themselves with stolen sparks."
"But I remember the line."
"I remember you."
The flame flared.
And before her, it took shape.
Not fully human.
Not ghost.
Not god.
A silhouette of fire, with eyes that mirrored her own.
A woman.
Tall. Ancient. Powerful.
The First Spark.
The one her mother had written of.
The one the city whispered about in myths.
And now, she stood before Selene.
"You were real," Selene said.
The flame woman smiled.
"I still am."
"Because fire never dies."
"It simply waits."
Selene stepped closer.
"You called me here?"
"No."
"You woke me."
"Every name you burned. Every secret you uncovered. Every moment you chose power over peace, those were my heartbeat."
"You brought me back."
Selene felt it now.
A tug in her chest.
A rhythm aligned with the pulsing flame.
Not compulsion.
Not possession.
Recognition.
"But I'm not yours," Selene said.
The First Spark nodded.
"No."
"You are mine only if you choose to be."
"But know this."
"What comes next will demand a flame the world has not seen since my time."
"You carry it."
"But can you unleash it without becoming it?"
Selene stepped into the circle.
The flames licked her boots.
Climbed her spine.
Danced across her skin.
And whispered again.
"To light the world, you must be willing to lose it."
"To burn them all, you must risk burning yourself."
Selene didn't flinch.
She raised her hand.
Opened her palm.
And let the flames consume it.
Not pain.
Not agony.
But memory.
Visions flooded her.
A thousand thrones overthrown.
A hundred flames doused.
A war that predated her world.
A fire goddess chained in silence.
And her face, Selene's face, painted across temple walls older than scripture.
She was not a queen.
She was not a ruler.
She was a reign resurrected.
When the fire faded, she stood alone again.
The chamber now empty.
The flame gone.
But her hand still burned with light beneath the skin.
A mark.
A bond.
Not a brand.
A legacy.
Back in her chambers, Ingrid waited.
"You've been gone all night."
Selene placed the flame-warmed stone on the table.
"It was worth it."
"Are you alright?"
Selene sat.
And for the first time in weeks, she smiled.
"I finally know what I am."
Elric entered next, blood on his gloves.
"A strike was attempted on the tower. Two masked intruders. One escaped. One dead."
Selene stood slowly.
"Did they speak?"
"No."
"But the one who escaped left this."
He handed her a pendant.
Blackened.
Carved in the shape of a closed eye.
Not the Circle.
Not Marrow.
Something else.
Something watching.
Selene turned to Ingrid.
"Draft an order."
"Yes, my queen?"
"From now on, no cities move without my blessing."
"And Karron?"
"Lock it down."
She walked to the map table.
Lit a small flame in her palm.
And let it hover over the eastern border.
"Let them all know."
"The flame is no longer rising."
"It's arrived."
---------------------------------
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