The Ember Within: A Tale of Fire, Fall, and Finding Purpose
By Victor Simdrix
Chapter 17 – The Council Divides
The Great Hall of Valebridge was thick with the stench of smoke and fear. The banners of the Crimson Crown and the Azure Court hung scorched and torn, shadows dancing across them as firelight flickered from the braziers.
The high table was crowded—kings, queens, generals, and advisors gathered to decide the fate of their fragile alliance. But though the war with Malakar raged outside the walls, tonight the battle was within.
Nyra sat at the edge of the chamber, her hood drawn low to hide her glowing eyes. Kaelith stood behind her, his hand never far from his blade. Darius lounged lazily against a pillar, but his gaze never strayed from the royals who eyed Nyra like a caged beast.
King Aldric rose first, his golden cloak newly mended. His voice was steady, but beneath it trembled something sharp.
"She saved us," he declared. "The Firestorm broke Malakar's siege. Without her, we would all be ash."
A murmur of agreement rippled through one side of the table.
Queen Isolde added, "Perhaps the gods have sent her—a chosen flame to lead us. With her fire, we can burn away the darkness and restore balance."
But at the far end, Prince Corvin Ash of the Black Dominion leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming.
"Or perhaps," he said coolly, "the gods have cursed us. We would be fools to trust one whose fire consumes without mercy. What difference is there between her and Malakar, save the direction her flames fall?"
The words struck like a dagger.
Nyra's fists tightened under the table, her breath coming sharp.
Others chimed in—Duke Tavian Grell, siding with Corvin, warned of "a weapon too dangerous to keep." Lady Maelis Vire, however, raised her voice in Nyra's defense, calling her "a beacon sent in our darkest hour."
The council fractured.
Half hailed her as savior. Half condemned her as threat.
And in the middle, Nyra sat—hearing not their praises, nor their condemnations, but her mother's voice, echoing from long ago: "Fire is hunger, Nyra. It gives life. But if you do not master it, it will master you."
The argument rose to a storm.
"Crown her!" shouted one faction.
"Chain her!" roared the other.
"Exile her before the fire turns on us!"
The voices clashed like steel on steel.
At last, King Aldric slammed his hand upon the table. "Enough! Until Malakar falls, she remains among us. But mark my words…" His eyes flicked to Nyra, sharp as a blade. "…power such as hers is not easily contained. If she falters, it will be my sword that ends her."
The hall went silent.
Kaelith stiffened, his hand inching toward his hilt. Nyra felt the weight of a hundred gazes, all branding her as both weapon and threat.
Only Darius broke the silence, his tone deceptively casual. "Funny thing about fire," he said, stretching. "It can cook your meal… or burn your house. But without it, you starve in the dark."
A few nobles shifted uncomfortably.
But Corvin Ash's smile lingered, sly and sharp. For though the council adjourned, Nyra could feel it—the division had been planted like a seed.
And in the shadows of Valebridge, betrayal was already taking root.