Chapter 10: The Fire That Answers
The next morning, Aria woke to find the temple wrapped in silence.
No birds. No wind. Just the low hum of ancient wards pressed against her skin like a second heartbeat.
She dressed quickly and found Damien already outside in the clearing, standing barefoot in the dew-wet grass. His jacket was off, his sleeves rolled up, and lines of golden script circled his forearms—runes that pulsed faintly in the morning light.
"Is that magic?" she asked as she stepped into the clearing.
He didn't turn. "It's a seal. It keeps certain memories locked away until they're needed."
"Yours or mine?"
His mouth twitched. "Both."
They began without words.
Damien gestured for her to step into the center of a wide circle made of salt and silver ash. She recognized the design from one of the journal entries—a pattern meant to draw out latent magic while keeping it contained.
"Close your eyes," he said. "Don't force the fire. Just feel."
She obeyed.
The world dimmed.
She could hear the rustle of wind in the leaves, the low hum of energy beneath her feet, and Damien's voice like a tether pulling her from the dark.
"Breathe. Think of the fire not as a weapon. Think of it as a language."
"A language?"
"Yes. One you already speak. You just need to remember how to listen."
She inhaled deeply.
And slowly, the flame came to life.
A single spark.
Then two.
Then a blossom of violet light curled up from her palms, not wild this time—but steady.
Controlled.
She opened her eyes.
And the fire didn't vanish.
It danced across her fingertips, curling into petals and spirals like a living thing.
"I'm doing it," she whispered, awestruck.
"You're syncing," Damien said, stepping closer. "For the first time in this life, you're not resisting the flame."
Aria smiled—triumphant, breathless.
But just as the joy swelled in her chest, the trees around them rustled unnaturally.
And the flame in her hands shuddered.
Damien reacted instantly—his runes igniting with gold light.
"We're not alone."
They both turned as a shape moved at the forest's edge.
A blur of black and silver.
Then a voice—mocking, smooth, familiar.
"You never did like being predictable, Damien."
Caden stepped from the trees.
He wore no mask this time.
No tricks.
Just confidence—and something darker burning in his eyes.
Aria's flame hissed as if recognizing him.
"You followed us?" Damien growled.
"I let you run first," Caden said lazily, circling the edge of the salt ring. "Thought it might be more interesting that way."
"How did you even find this place?"
Caden grinned. "Don't worry. I didn't bring friends. Yet."
Damien raised his hand, but Aria stepped between them.
"Wait."
Both men looked at her.
And the fire in her hands didn't flicker.
Didn't fade.
She looked straight at Caden.
"No riddles. No shadows. Why are you really here?"
Caden tilted his head. "Because you're finally waking up. And when you remember the truth, you'll understand I'm not the enemy."
"Then who is?"
He looked at Damien.
But didn't answer.
Instead, Caden raised his palm—and to Aria's shock, a violet flame bloomed there too.
Identical to hers.
"Where did you get that?" she asked, heart pounding.
"It's not borrowed," Caden said. "It's mine. Has been since the day you died."
"She gave it to you," Damien said tightly. "In the last moments."
"She chose me," Caden corrected. "After you betrayed her."
Aria stared at the flames in both of their hands.
Same color.
Same magic.
But they felt… different.
Hers was soft. Curious. Raw.
Caden's burned cold, laced with hunger.
"She didn't choose sides," Damien said firmly. "She gave us tasks. Not power."
Caden's smirk faded. "And yet here we are. You, still trying to shape her into your queen. Me, trying to keep her free."
"Free from what?" Aria demanded.
"From him," Caden said, nodding to Damien. "From the courts. From fate. From a life of sacrifice you never agreed to."
He stepped toward her.
And suddenly the air warped.
Her flame flared defensively.
But Caden only whispered, "You don't have to repeat their mistakes, Aria. Come with me. I can help you unlock everything. The real past. The full truth."
Damien's voice cut through the fog. "Touch her and I'll burn your name from the stars."
Caden smirked. "Then I guess we'll see who's stronger now."
The wind howled.
Aria could feel both men's power building—like two storms meeting.
But she didn't want war.
Not yet.
She stepped out of the ring.
Held her hand up between them.
And said, "Enough."
To her surprise, both flames dimmed.
Caden raised an eyebrow. "Well. The queen still commands."
"I'm not your queen," she said. "Not his either."
"Not yet," Damien whispered.
She turned to Caden. "Leave. Now. Before I find out which of you I should fear more."
He didn't move for a moment.
Then he smiled—a sad, soft thing that chilled her more than his rage ever had.
"You sound more like her every day."
And then—he vanished in a gust of wind and violet ash.
The clearing fell quiet.
Her fire burned low in her hands.
Damien approached cautiously. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "I think I passed my first test."
"You did more than that," he said quietly. "You kept both of us from breaking."
They stood in silence.
Two souls tethered by history neither fully remembered.
Then Aria whispered, "He said I chose him. That I gave him part of my flame."
"You gave us both something," Damien replied. "But you never gave him your heart."
She looked up. "And you?"
Damien's voice was low, haunted. "You broke it."
And just like that, the fire in her hands finally went out.
But something else began to burn.
Inside her chest.
Something far more dangerous than magic.