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**Chapter Seven: The Flame Roads**
The Watcher led us through a narrow cleft in the rock that opened into a tunnel of glassy obsidian. It wasn't carved. It had been *formed*, long ago, by something hotter than any forge.
"This is one of the old flame roads," he said. "It runs beneath the continent like a memory no one remembers."
Each step we took made the walls shimmer. Fire ran just beneath the surface—like rivers behind black crystal.
"Where does it lead?" I asked.
He smiled faintly. "Not all places are *where*. Some are *when*."
That didn't help, but I didn't push. My body ached from the battle. My mark still pulsed on my chest like it was part of my heartbeat now. The sword strapped across my back felt like a promise and a warning.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. The flame road didn't respect time the way the surface did.
Finally, the tunnel widened.
We stepped into a vast chamber bathed in gentle orange light. Ancient carvings covered every wall—depicting women with fire in their eyes, warriors wielding swords made of starlight, and children being marked as I had been.
At the center stood a pool of golden fire.
Not burning. Not destructive.
Alive.
"This is the Emberwell," the Watcher said. "Sanctuary for the flameborn. And the place where your mother once passed her final trial."
I stepped toward it slowly. The fire didn't roar. It *hummed*—soft and low, like a lullaby I used to hear but forgot how to sing.
Then I heard the voice.
**My little spark...**
I froze.
"Maama?"
Not quite. The voice came from the Emberwell itself. A memory. An echo shaped in flame.
The fire rose and formed the shape of her—not in detail, but in *presence*. The way she stood. The warmth of her hands. I knew it was her.
"You've come far," the echo said. "But the path forward is not just about strength. It's about *remembrance*."
The vision touched the water—and a wave of visions crashed into me.
Flashes.
Her carrying me through the forest at night. Her facing a man cloaked in shadow. Her hiding the sword beneath the mountain. Her burning a mark into her own chest as tears fell down her cheeks.
Then silence.
I stumbled back. Tears blurred my vision for the first time since the fire.
"She... she gave everything," I whispered.
The Watcher placed a hand on my shoulder. "And now you must decide what to do with what she left you."
I stared into the Emberwell.
She had hidden me. Now I would step into the fire—not to hide, but to rise.
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