The council chamber had emptied.But the weight had not left.
Rei sat on the obsidian bench, one hand resting on the pommel of Bread Cutter, the other draped over his knee. His back ached from tension, his ribs still bore the ghost of the pulsing Gem, and his mind…
His mind would not stop.
Kaia paced behind him in slow circles, not unlike a caged wolf. Her boots scraped the stone softly, rhythmically, never still. Her tail flicked.
Durik sat on the steps below the king's throne, arms on his knees, head tipped back against the anvil-shaped pedestal. He looked up at the stone ceiling like it might open and show him the stars.
"Do you think he saw it too?" Rei finally asked.
Durik didn't look down. "The fire?"
"No," Rei said. "Me."
Kaia paused her pacing.
Rei glanced between them. "King Rurik. When he touched the Gem. I think he saw something… something about me. And now he doesn't know whether to revere me, or destroy me."
Durik snorted. "Welcome to dwarven politics."
Kaia muttered, "It's not just dwarves."
Rei chuckled once. It felt dry. "That vision… it wasn't just fire. It was hunger. Thrones. Crowns. Weapons meant to break gods. I don't think the Gem chooses rulers."
He looked down at the satchel, the faint edge of the Gem barely visible under the flap.
"I think it chooses matches."
Kaia's voice was quiet. "You mean fuel."
Rei didn't answer.
Durik stood and crossed to them. He looked tired. Not from battle, but from belief.
"My father was never a man who dreamed of power. Not like this. He wanted unity. Respect. A legacy the mountain could remember." He paused. "But now… now I don't know if he's seeing the world through his own eyes anymore."
Rei met his gaze. "You saw it too. When he looked at me. There was recognition."
"And something else," Kaia added. "Fear."
"No," Durik said. "It wasn't fear."
They both looked at him.
"It was need."
That made them quiet.
Durik exhaled, walked to the edge of the obsidian table, and rested his hand against one of the etched seals.
"We forge tools. Weapons. Crowns. But we also forge myths. And when those myths walk into our halls with living fire strapped to their side…" He shrugged. "Some men want to kneel. Others want to melt it down."
Rei leaned back, eyes closing for a moment. "And what do you want to do?"
Durik was silent for a long while.
Then he grinned faintly. "Well… you did nearly destroy our ancestral forge and get me cursed by a glowing rock."
Kaia barked a laugh. "Don't forget you named his sword Bread Cutter."
Rei groaned. "I still can't believe you said that out loud."
Durik raised both hands. "I was hungry! And it cuts! You should thank me—it distracted the priests from dragging you off for dissection."
Kaia rolled her eyes, but smiled.
Rei looked down at the blade again. The black metal hummed softly in the deep quiet. It had drunk from the same fire that now haunted the halls of Throneforge.
And still… it rested in his hand. Loyal.
"Do you think," Rei said softly, "that fire can exist without burning?"
Durik tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Rei said, "can something be born of flame… and not become destruction?"
Kaia stepped closer. "You're not the fire. You're the carrier. The vessel."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Rei whispered. "What if the fire doesn't want a vessel? What if it wants to spread?"
They didn't answer.
The three of them stood in the chamber of kings, in the silence between power and prophecy.
Then Durik said, "We forge what we can hold. Not what we fear."
Rei looked up.
Durik nodded toward him. "You're not a tool. You're not a symbol. You're Rei. And I'll stand beside you. Not the Rift. Not the Gem. You."
Kaia stepped beside him. "Same."
Rei felt something tighten in his throat.
And for the first time since the forge screamed… he let himself breathe.
Outside the chamber, the Forge murmured low.
Dusk approached.
And the second flame had not yet burned.