The bells of the Sanctum had not rung in decades.
Not since the Siege of Varthan.
Not since the last traitor rose and burned half the northern coast.
So when their deep-throated clang echoed through the obsidian halls again, it shook even the flame-forged foundations.
And beneath the ancient dome of the Council, nine figures rose.
High Inquisitor Marthien was the first to speak.
"Which cell?"
The acolyte trembled as he knelt before the dais.
"Cell One-Null, my lord."
The Council chamber dropped into silence.
One-Null had not been uttered aloud in thirty years.
That designation belonged to only one prisoner.
The Sleeper.
Arch-Speaker Vael leaned forward, gray braids coiled atop her head like serpents. "Impossible. That cell was bound with runes from the First Flame. Its locks keyed to soulprint. Even the Harbinger couldn't open it without"
"She didn't escape," the acolyte whispered, eyes wide and distant. "She woke."
That word settled on them like a weight.
Woke.
Not broken.
Not breached.
Awakened.
There was a difference. One that none of them wanted to name.
Across the table, Grand Strategist Rhain adjusted his crimson mantle, fingers twitching.
"Where is she now?"
"Last sighting was at the Elthwyn Ridge," the acolyte replied. "A scout survived long enough to relay the message. She is headed north toward the Marches."
Rhain's eyes narrowed.
"Toward Kael."
Marthien's face darkened. "We should have killed him when he broke his tether. The boy was always unstable."
"He succeeded in the crucible," Vael snapped. "And killed her. Or so we were led to believe."
"She lived," muttered the ninth seat.
All heads turned.
The Seat of Silence was rarely filled.
Tonight, it was.
A figure cloaked in pale flame leaned forward, face hidden by a bone-white mask carved into a frozen scream.
Their voice echoed unnaturally.
"She lived because we let her. Because we wanted to see what would happen if one flame burned unshaped. Unbound. Untamed."
Vael turned her head with slow menace. "That experiment has now set our forests alight."
"And it is only beginning," the masked figure murmured.
The council chamber trembled faintly.
Not from sound.
From heat.
As if something ancient stirred deep in the vaults beneath them.
They all felt it.
A long-forgotten resonance.
The rhythm of a heartbeat that had not pulsed in thirty years.
Hers.
Marthien stood. "Then we must contain her."
"Contain?" scoffed Rhain. "We failed to contain her before. We buried her under soulstone and seared her name from every record. And she still found a way back."
"Then kill her this time," someone hissed.
"She is already dead," whispered the masked figure. "What walks now is what remains after fire finishes its work."
The doors to the chamber slammed open.
A second messenger stumbled in, breathing raggedly, coat scorched.
No words.
Just an object dropped onto the floor.
A flower blackened and curled, burning at its edges, pulsing with heat.
Not a threat.
A signature.
A promise.
Vael stepped down and crouched near it.
She didn't touch it.
But the heat still reached her.
Not burning.
Just reminding.
You left me there.
She rose slowly.
"She remembers."
Rhain nodded grimly. "Then it is not just us she hunts."
The Harbinger would be next.
The Sleeper would not forget him.
He had stood beside her in the forge when her power was first awakened.
He had helped bind her when she refused to kneel.
Vael paced back to her place, voice colder than the void between stars.
"She'll draw Kael to her."
Marthien crossed his arms. "Then we use him."
"Use?" the masked figure tilted their head. "Or offer him?"
A pause.
Then, Vael asked the question none dared speak for years
"What if she is not the weapon we lost… but the one we always needed?"
Silence reigned again.
The fire in the central hearth dimmed.
And then the obsidian under their feet cracked.
Just a sliver.
A hairline fracture running through the etched sigils.
But every member of the Council felt it.
Not physical.
Symbolic.
A sign.
The flame that once gave them dominance… had chosen another.
The Council would fracture.
Some would want her destroyed.
Others would try to reclaim her.
But one truth had now burned itself into the stone:
The Sleeper was no longer asleep.
And she would not return to a cell.