(Lián Xinyue POV)
The Ember Court glows differently at night.
The torches lining the marble walkways burn blue instead of red, their light trembling like living things. The air hums with heat and gossip, guards murmuring about me as I pass, courtiers pretending not to stare.
The girl who survived the fire.
The one the flames spared.
Their whispers follow me everywhere, as if I've become a myth already.
I tighten my grip on my robe and keep walking. The silk feels foreign on my skin, too soft, too clean. Yesterday, I was a village healer's apprentice. Today, I'm a chosen vessel for something even the priests fear to name.
I should feel powerful.
Instead, I feel like prey.
A bell tolls from the eastern tower, low, solemn, and endless. It means the Crown Prince is in session with the High Seer again. Which means I have maybe an hour before the palace closes its inner gates for the night.
Enough time to find answers.
The dreams haven't stopped since the Choosing. Every night, the same vision: the Hollow Flame rising from the earth, and a woman with eyes like molten gold whispering my name. I used to think it was just the fevered tricks of exhaustion. Now… I'm not so sure.
Especially after what happened in training this morning.
I can still feel the brush of Kaien's sword at my throat, the heat that didn't burn, the way his eyes flickered like embers just before he lowered it. That moment shouldn't haunt me. But it does.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I wasn't.
The library of the Flame Court is older than the palace itself. They say the first Emperor built it on the ruins of a temple to the fire gods. Every time I enter, the torches flare higher, as if recognizing something in me.
Tonight, the chamber is empty, or so I think.
"You shouldn't be here after curfew," a voice says from the upper railing.
I freeze.
Ren Kaien steps out of the shadows, hair damp from a recent bath, crimson robe half-open at the throat. The torchlight throws gold across his skin, catching the faint rune etched along his collarbone, the mark of the Emberborn heir.
"Your Highness," I manage, forcing my voice steady. "I couldn't sleep."
He leans against the railing, watching me. "You're not the first. The fire keeps its chosen restless."
"I came to learn," I say, gesturing to the scrolls. "About what I am. What it means to be chosen."
"And you thought the library would tell you?" His smile is faint, wry. "Books in this court are censored before they're even inked. The truth isn't written down, it's buried."
"Then where do I dig?"
He studies me for a long time. "You really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Follow me."
He leads me through a hidden passage behind the archives, down a spiral stair of blackstone. The deeper we go, the colder it becomes, the kind of cold that only exists near forgotten flames.
We stop before a sealed iron gate. Kaien presses his palm against the center, and the metal flares red beneath his touch. The runes unlock with a hiss.
Inside lies a chamber lined with ancient murals, battles fought in fire, empires swallowed in smoke, and at the center, a figure cloaked in light and shadow both.
"The first Emberborn," Kaien says quietly. "She carried both flame and void. They called her the Hollow Flame."
The name hits something deep inside me. My dream. The woman with gold eyes.
"She burned herself out," he continues, "to end a war between gods and mortals. Her bloodline was thought lost, until the Seers found you."
"So I'm her descendant?"
He shakes his head. "No. Something rarer. The prophecy says the Hollow Flame doesn't die. It's reborn. The Seer believes… you are her return."
I stare at him. "You don't believe that."
He steps closer, his voice low. "I believe in what I see. And I saw you walk through living fire without flinching."
His nearness unnerves me more than his words. There's heat radiating off him, not from magic, but from the space between us.
"I saw you too," I whisper before I can stop myself. "The way you looked at me in the courtyard. Like you already knew."
His breath catches. "Maybe I did."
For a moment, the world narrows to the sound of fire, soft, steady, alive. His hand lifts slightly, almost touching my cheek, then stops. The air between us trembles.
"I shouldn't," he mutters.
"Then don't," I whisper back.
He exhales, a sound half laugh, half surrender. "You have no idea what you're saying."
"I'm saying I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be."
"Why? Because you burn?"
He meets my eyes. "Because I don't know how to stop."
Something flickers in his gaze, fear, longing, something dangerously human. And I realize the fire inside me isn't just mine anymore. It's answering his.
Before either of us can move, a sudden tremor ripples through the floor. The torches flare white-hot, bursting into sparks. Kaien grabs my arm, pulling me close as the murals shift, the painted flames twisting into shapes that move, scream, reach.
A voice echoes through the chamber, ancient and terrible.
"The Hollow Flame awakens. The heir must choose."
Kaien shoves me behind him, sword drawn, eyes burning bright gold. The fire responds to his call, flaring outward in a circle of protection.
"Stay behind me," he growls.
The mural cracks. A plume of shadow-fire erupts from the wall, taking the shape of a monstrous figure with hollow eyes.
I raise my hands instinctively, and the flames obey.
White fire, pure and silent, bursts from my palms, colliding with the darkness. The chamber shakes. Light consumes everything.
When it clears, the shadow is gone. The air smells like smoke and blood. Kaien stands beside me, eyes wide, sword lowered.
"You—" he starts. "You just."
"I didn't mean to." My voice trembles. "It just happened."
He steps closer, gripping my wrist gently. The white flame still flickers faintly under my skin.
"You are her," he whispers.
"No." I pull back. "I'm not anyone's prophecy."
He looks at me for a long moment, then says softly, "You might not have a choice."
That night, I don't sleep.
The flame inside me won't let me.
Because every time I close my eyes, I see Kaien's face in the fire, and the shadow that called his name before it vanished.
And I can't tell which one frightens me more.