The chamber beneath Solmira had no doors—only flame.
Elira stood at the edge of a glowing chasm, the heat rising in waves, her mark burning like a brand. The fire didn't scorch her. It welcomed her.
Kael watched from the shadows, tense. "This is the Memory Forge. The Order used it to test crownbearers. If you enter, it will show you everything—truth, lies, futures that never happened."
Elira stepped forward. "I need answers."
She descended into the flame.
The world shifted.
Suddenly, she was standing in a throne room made of light. A woman—the first flamebearer—stood before her, eyes blazing, crown alight. Behind her, armies clashed, shadows surged, and the sky split in two.
"You are my echo," the woman said. "But you are not me. You must choose your own fire."
Elira reached out, and the vision shattered.
Now she stood in a memory not her own—Kael, younger, kneeling before the Order, his wrist unmarked. A voice thundered: "You are not ready."
Then Malric—his eyes once kind, his crown untouched—standing beside Kael, smiling. "We'll change the world together."
Elira gasped. The flame surged around her, whispering: "They were brothers once."
She stumbled back into reality, breath ragged.
Kael was waiting. "You saw it."
Elira nodded. "You and Malric… you were chosen together."
Kael's face was stone. "Until the shadow chose him instead."
Elira looked down at her mark, now glowing with two rings of flame. "Then I'll finish what you started. Not as your echo. As myself."