The chamber was alive with fire. Golden flames twisted along the walls, licking the carved runes until they glowed molten-bright. The air was heavy, thick with the heat of a hundred suns, and yet Kaelen's blood ran cold.
He stood at the heart of the council's chamber, sword clutched tight, mortal lungs burning in a place not meant for him. His arrival was a wound in their order, and he could feel their fury like daggers pressing against his skin.
The council towered above on their crescent dais—twelve figures robed in fire, their faces half-shrouded, their eyes gleaming like molten ore. Their voices rose, blending into a thunder that rattled Kaelen's bones.
A mortal.
He crossed the threads.
Impossible. Forbidden. Dangerous.
Kaelen gritted his teeth, refusing to bow. His heart pounded, not from fear but from the sight of her—Ariselle, standing below the dais, her face pale, lips parted in horror.
"You fool," she whispered, too low for the council to hear.
One of the council members rose, flame flaring higher around them. Their voice was a blade, sharp and condemning.
"Kaelen of the mortal realm. By what right do you trespass upon our fire?"
Kaelen lifted his chin. "By no right at all. But by necessity."
The chamber crackled with outrage. Sparks cascaded from the ceiling as another councilor slammed their staff against the dais.
"He dares admit it! The threads are not for mortals to touch!"
Kaelen's voice rang, steadier than he felt. "Then tell me—how else am I to save this realm, and yours, from what stirs in the dark? The rifts grow faster, the creatures stronger. You know this. I feel it in my blood, as do you in your flames."
A silence fell, not of agreement but of unease. The council exchanged glances, their fire flickering. It was the truth, and truths, however unwelcome, could not be smothered.
Then another voice spoke, colder than the rest. A woman's voice, though her flame was white-hot, merciless.
"Or perhaps it is his blood itself that summons the rifts."
Kaelen stiffened. His curse. His father's whispered warnings. He had feared the truth, but hearing it spoken aloud cut deeper than any blade.
Ariselle stepped forward, fire dancing unbidden in her hands.
"No," she said fiercely. "He has fought those creatures more than any of us. He has protected the threads when we turned our faces away."
The white-flamed councilor turned her gaze upon Ariselle.
"And why do you speak for him, child of fire? Why do you risk your station, your very existence, to shield this mortal?"
Ariselle faltered. Kaelen's heart clenched at the sight—her courage burning, but her voice caught by the weight of truth she could not speak aloud.
Because she cared for him. Because she could not stand to see him condemned.
Kaelen stepped forward, ignoring the tremor of the floor beneath his boots. "She owes you no defense. If there is guilt, it is mine. I crossed the threads. I stand here. Judge me."
The chamber roared with flame again, councilors debating in crackling tongues. Ariselle's hands trembled at her sides. She glanced at him, eyes filled with something desperate—pleading.
When the council's voices dimmed, the white-flamed woman spoke once more.
"The mortal will be contained. His blood studied. His fate decided."
Two guards, beings of flame armored in obsidian plates, stepped from the walls. They advanced on Kaelen, their heat searing the air.
Kaelen raised his sword, but Ariselle's hand shot out. "Wait."
Her voice cracked through the chamber like thunder. The flames themselves seemed to pause. All eyes turned to her.
She swallowed, her throat tight, but her words did not falter.
"If you take him, you take me as well. I will not abandon him."
Gasps swept through the chamber. Even the fire dimmed, as though shocked.
Kaelen stared, stunned. His chest ached with a mix of awe and terror. She had just bound herself to him before her people, in the most dangerous way possible.
The council blazed brighter, fury and disbelief rolling off them.
"Ariselle. You speak treason. You bind your flame to shadow."
But Ariselle did not flinch. She turned her gaze on Kaelen, and in her eyes, he saw the truth she had not dared speak before.
Not just loyalty. Not just defiance. Something far deeper.
The guards halted, uncertain. The chamber buzzed with fire and tension.
Kaelen exhaled, his grip tightening on his sword. For the first time since crossing the threads, he felt something other than dread. He felt resolve.
Whatever judgment awaited, whatever wrath these beings of fire unleashed, he would not face it alone.
And perhaps, in that union, in that forbidden bond, lay the only chance to save both their worlds.