"Tarin!"
Amina sprinted toward the burning heart of the Cradle, where the Phoenix hovered in full emergence. Its wings, vast and terrible, pulsed with memories—some hers, some ancient, some yet to come.
And at its center, flickering like a candle trapped in a storm, was the boy.
"No closer!" the Phoenix shrieked, its voice layered in flame and wind.
But Amina didn't stop. Amariel's fire surged within her veins, whispering a truth: this was not a battle of strength. This was a test of soul.
She stepped through the flame.
Each step peeled away a layer of her—her fear, her doubt, her guilt. She remembered standing over her fallen brother in Lithris. She remembered begging Amariel not to die. She remembered herself, in a burning temple long ago, choosing silence over truth.
But she did not stop.
"Tarin, I know you're still in there," she said.
The Phoenix's head twisted toward her, its eyes glowing with agony. "He gave me permission."
Amina's breath caught. "He… chose this?"
Flames swirled violently. "To protect you. To protect them. The boy was willing to vanish."
And there—at the core—Tarin's voice rose faintly: "You were the only one who ever saw me. The only one who didn't treat me like a shadow…"
The Phoenix's fire wavered.
That hesitation was all Amina needed.
She dove into the inferno.
---
Inside the Flame
It was like falling through memories made of heat and sorrow.
Tarin stood in a burning orchard. His eyes were closed. Around him were illusions: his mother weeping beside an empty cradle, Ashen Var towering, whispering lies, Amina smiling before she left for her first trial.
"Tarin," she called.
He turned slowly.
His body was fading.
"You shouldn't have come."
"You shouldn't have given up."
He shook his head. "I was always just a tool, Amina. They raised me to be the Phoenix. I was never meant to be anything else."
She grabbed his hands.
"You were always more. You are not a vessel. You are my friend."
That word lit the world around them like a second sun. The illusions vanished. The flame cracked.
And the Phoenix screamed.
---
In the Cradle – Reality
Outside, Kai clutched the pendant on his neck, muttering a prayer to his forgotten god.
Valec, pale and bloodied, stared at the Phoenix in awe. "If she succeeds… she won't come out the same."
"No one walks through divinity untouched," Kai said.
A blast of fire knocked them both to the ground.
The Phoenix staggered in midair. Its wings faltered. The egg cracked again.
And from it, a single blue feather drifted down.
It landed in Valec's hand—and shimmered.
A vision hit him instantly: Amariel's final moments, sealing away the Rebirth Flame… and handing a blade of fire to someone cloaked in shadow.
Valec gasped. "I saw the blade."
Kai frowned. "What blade?"
Valec turned to him slowly. "The one that can end this."
---
Back Inside the Flame
Amina and Tarin stood together as the Phoenix's fire thinned around them.
"She'll come back for you," Amina whispered. "But you have to fight."
Tarin shook his head. "I can't win."
"You don't need to," she said. "You just have to choose."
A tremor rippled through the flame.
Outside, the Phoenix howled.
And then…
Tarin reached out.
And chose.
---
The Cradle Collapses
The Phoenix let out one final, ear-shattering cry—and shattered into light.
Amina fell from the sky like a star, blue fire clinging to her skin, arms wrapped around an unconscious Tarin.
Kai caught her before she hit the stone.
Flames vanished.
Silence fell.
The Cradle of Embers was no more. In its place stood the ashen remains of a history rewritten.
Amina opened her eyes.
Tarin breathed.
And behind them, Ashen Var stood, broken—but alive.
"This changes nothing," he hissed. "You've only delayed what must be."
Amina stepped forward, voice steady. "Then let me show you what else has changed."
She raised her hand—and called the blue flame not from memory, but from choice.
A new fire.
A new name.
---
Elsewhere – The Watchers React
In the Hall of Mirrors, the Seer slammed a hand down on a black book. "She's done it."
The hooded figures behind him murmured. "Then the next Seal will break."
Another figure stepped forward. "And what of the boy?"
The Seer stared into the mirror, where Tarin's soul flickered. "He's the first to survive the Phoenix. That makes him… dangerous."
"And her?"
The Seer exhaled. "She's no longer Amariel's heir."
He turned.
"She's the flame's author now."