Vel Tharyn fell. Not to a rebellion, but to fear. Rumors of Anira's power spread like rot: that she could call flame with her breath, that her love with Dorian was a political curse, that she'd pledged herself to both sides and would burn them all.
The Elders summoned her. She went willingly, trusting Dorian would speak for her.
He did not. At the trial, he stood to her left. Silent. Her father to her right. Shouting.
"She is a traitor!"
"She is the future," Dorian said weakly.
"Then the future smells of ash."
---
They chained her to the altar in the heart of the Sun Chapel.
No trial.
Just sentence.
As the torches were lit, Anira turned to Dorian with eyes that had once been full of wonder. Now, only flame.
"Do you believe I deserve this?" she asked.
"I believe… you are too dangerous to be left to them," he said softly. "But I was too weak to protect you."
Her heart cracked open.
"I loved you," she said.
"I still do," he whispered.
And then they burned her.
---
Kaelira jolted, back in her body—but the flames followed her. They curled from her fingertips, refusing to be denied. The memory still clung to her skin like soot.
The Shade waited in silence. Kaelira dropped to her knees, hands in her hair.
"I killed no one. I begged for peace."
"Which," the Shade said coldly, "is why they feared you more than any sword."