They did not linger in the field.
Seris made that decision the moment Kael's gaze drifted back toward the fallen scouts; not with triumph, but with a yearning for home. A distant ache, the kind that came from being torn away from something grounding and familiar. She recognized the look. It was the same one initiates wore when doctrine first stripped away their certainties. She tore her mind away from those memories.
Liora arrived less than a minute later, her presence announced not by sound, but by the subtle way Seris's posture eased. The fortune teller looked out of place among the bent wheat and unsettled earth, her layered shawls catching on stalks as if the land itself was reluctant to let her pass.
"You really do have a habit of leaving messes," Liora said lightly, surveying the scene. All of a sudden, Seris tensed again. "That's not funny, Liora," Seris replied. Her sharp eyes flicked to Kael, then softened. "Lets move."
Kael blinked. "Where to?"
"The closest city not under strict Dominion influence, Virelen," she replied.
Liora did not indulge the exchange. "Chop chop, kids."
She was already walking away, like she couldn't abide the scene.
They walked to the barn and spoke to Seth and Garen about what happened. The farmers took it in good stride, to Kael's surprise. "Well act like we got here after you left," Garen said. "Go safely."
They left the field behind, going through a vast forest that shared a border with the farmland. The goal was to avoid main roads and predictable crossings. Liora guided them with uncanny confidence, turning down paths that felt wrong until, moments later, Kael started to feel a strange energy in the air. He noticed the plants looked mutated, somewhat. A strong smell of sulfur tainted the air. And above all else, his connection to the Flame felt very unstable.
"You should see this, Kael," Liora said ahead of him. "This happened recently to someone I was quite familiar with."
"See, when an Emberborn uses Flame beyond their capacity, or channels it without proper understanding of the disciplines, a minor Burnout can occur. Depending on the scale, the affected area could be a small area or even deemed a global catastrophe. You know about the Great Burnout.
Any Emberborn manages to survive the event, without fail, becomes a Cinder. Their connection to Flame is severely damaged, their bodies and possibly minds are scarred, and they become creatures of chaos."
As she spoke, they finally got to a clearing in the forest that resembled the crash site of a small meteor. "A friend of mine became a Cinder here," Liora said quietly. "That's what happens when you try to wield power beyond your control."
Then, she abruptly turned to face him. "There are exceptions. Those who have a unique connection to Flame. Those who can wield it within themselves, and bend it in others. Catalysts."
She stepped closer to him now, her face taking on a seriousness that he hadn't seen on it before. " You have survived a minor Burnout once, Kael. That is why we are sure of what you are. The tragedy is that the event that gave us that key knowledge is the same one that took your parents' lives away."
He stood, listening, but that part caught him off guard. "What?"
"Your mother," Seris replied from behind. "She was discovered in a moment of carelessness. She burned too bright, trying to fight back against the men who found her out. You were still a baby."
The truth hit Kael hard. He fell to his knees, understanding why the Order had watched him. The tears came to his eyes, but for some reason they did not drop.
"You talked about me being a Catalyst, and being able to affect Burnouts. You brought me here, where a Cinder manifested. I'll ask you this. Is my mother alive? Did she, by any chance, become a Cinder?"
He heard footsteps grow closer, and felt a hand on his shoulder. "You were the only survivor that night. We took you and gave you to your father's good friend, Rugert. That is what happened."
Seris's words brought him no comfort. And upon hearing them, the tears finally fell.
The city emerged near noon.
It did not announce itself with walls or banners. Instead, Kael noticed it in layers, lights clustered where there should have been none, silhouettes moving freely along elevated walkways, structures rising without the rigid symmetry he had grown used to. The air itself felt different. Less constrained.
"This is Virelen," Liora said quietly. "Independent. Tolerant. Stubborn."
Seris's gaze swept the outskirts, cataloging exits, vantage points, blind spots. "And vulnerable."
"Yes," Liora agreed. "But still breathing."
As they entered, Kael felt it almost immediately. A pressure he was starting to learn to recognize, not as danger, but as density. Emberborn signatures overlapped here, some faint, some bright, all existing without the careful spacing enforced by the Dominion. It was chaotic. Alive. He could feel the sparks of Flame in people. And it was a beautiful feeling.
Sreet performers practiced openly, drawing small crowds. Kael caught glimpses of techniques woven casually into daily life; heat shaping for glasswork, controlled propulsion for transport, subtle stabilization used to reinforce old structures.
"No restrictions," Kael murmured.
"No leash," Liora added.
They had barely settled into a rented upper floor in an inn; bare walls, wide windows, and a view of the city's inner canals, when it happened.
Kael froze mid-step.
Seris felt it a heartbeat later. "The Cinder."
The word was enough.
They were moving before the first scream reached them.
The incident was unfolding two streets down, near a crowded market square. By the time they arrived, people were already scattering, giving a wide berth to a young woman at the center of the chaos. She knelt on the stone, hands pressed to her head, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.
The signs were unmistakable.
Liora swore under her breath. "Not good. How did she get in? She's slipping quickly."
Seris assessed the scene instantly. "No suppression teams. No containment perimeter."
"Independent city," Liora said grimly. "We handle our own."
Kael stepped forward without thinking.
"Kael," Seris warned.
"I know," he said. And he felt like he really did.
The young woman's output was unstable. It wasn't explosive, but escalating, spiraling inward. Panic fed it. Fear narrowed her awareness until every sensation screamed threat.
Kael approached slowly, deliberately, keeping his posture open.
"Hey," he said, voice steady. "You're not alone."
The woman's eyes flicked up, wild and unfocused. "I can't make it stop."
"I know," Kael said. "You don't have to."
He reached out; not physically, but internally, aligning his awareness with the woman's faltering rhythm. He felt the imbalance immediately, the way pressure pooled where it shouldn't, how close it was to tipping past recovery.
Kael adjusted, not suppressing. Just… guiding.
Breathing slowed. The woman's shoulders eased, fraction by fraction. The crowd held its collective breath.
Seris watched intently, tension coiled but restrained. Liora's eyes gleamed in happiness, and she shivered as if unable to hold herself back from going to them.
When it ended, the woman slumped forward, unconscious but stable. A ripple of stunned silence passed through the square before voices erupted in relief, awe, and questions.
Kael staggered back, suddenly exhausted.
Seris caught him before he fell. "Enough," she said quietly. "You did enough."
Liora walked up to the young lady, carried her on her back, and they left quickly after that, before gratitude could turn into attention.
After laying the unconscious Cinder in bed, Liora sat beside her and wouldn't move. "Her name is Eloise," she said. "After becoming a Cinder, her mind was fractured and she has been roaming the outskirts for a while."
"You should've told the Order," Seris said.
"I couldn't help her, but I definitely wasn't going to let the Order take her in. She's my friend." Liora said those words with determination. Kael wondered why she was against the idea, though.
"Anyway, I'm grateful for calming her down this time, Kael," Liora said with gratitude. "I'm afraid our paths will split after this. I can't leave her here, but I can't leave her alone either."
Seris snorted in derision. "Do what you must." She then walked out of the room.
Kael left to his own room to rest. The event had drained him in a way. And as he lay in bed, the cover of night fell.
Kael lay awake long after the city settled, staring at the ceiling, hands still tingling with residual sensation. He was halfway to sleep when the voice of Seris came to him from beside the window.
"Don't move," she whispered.
There were footsteps below. Careful. Deliberate. They seemed too quiet for drunks, and too patient for thieves.
Seris drew closer to Kael, her presence almost non-existent. "They followed us after what happened at the farm," she murmured. "Or they were already here, from the incident in the afternoon."
A shadow crossed the window.
Then another.
Her voice was calm, but tight. "Someone's put a price on you, it seems."
Kael swallowed, heart pounding. The footsteps did not rush.
That was the first thing Kael noticed once his breathing slowed enough for his senses to stretch outward. Whoever was below moved with patience, stopping often, listening for reaction.
Seris's hand hovered near Kael's shoulder, not touching, but close enough that he felt the steadiness of her presence. When she confirmed he was calm, she crossed the room, her movements deceptively casual as she peered through a narrow slit between curtain and wall.
"Three," she murmured. "Possibly four. They know where we are, but not what they're walking into."
"That's dangerous," Kael whispered.
"Yes," She replied. "For them."
Seris didn't smile.
"They're not Dominion," she said. "Different posture. Different patience."
"Independent contractors?" Kael asked.
"Or ideologues," Seris replied. "Both are worse."
The footsteps reached the stairwell. Wood creaked softly under weight. Kael closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. Among the strangers, one was Emberborn.
Seris turned to him fully now.
"Listen carefully," she said. "Do not intervene unless I tell you to."
Kael opened his mouth to protest.
"You are not here to prove yourself," she continued, her voice firm. "You are here to survive."
"And if they reach me?" he asked.
Her eyes hardened. "They won't. I will make sure of that myself."