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Chapter 20 - Ash Beneath the Crown

🌒 Prologue: The Mission

"You want me to do what?" Aaron asked, voice low.

Frankfurt leaned forward, tapping a sealed letter.

> "You'll be attending the royal masquerade in two nights."

> "Inside, there will be a man. A traitor. A whisperer. His name is Vern Daskel — Third Adviser to the Crown. He serves the Pale Thorn."

Aaron narrowed his eyes. "You want him dead."

Frankfurt didn't smile. He never smiled when it mattered.

> "I want you to burn him quietly."

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🧭 Interlude: The Pilgrimage

But before the mission, Aaron asked for a day.

> "I need answers. Not orders."

With Ashen by his side, he followed an old trail marked in burnt stone and shattered glyphs, leading beyond the walls of Gezana… to the Ruins of Synn-Kar, first temple of the Skyborn flame.

The land there was scorched and whispering.

In the heart of the ruin stood an altar — simple, but old beyond age.

Aaron stepped forward. The stone reacted — igniting with blue fire that danced around him like recognition.

> "Why me?" he whispered.

A voice — his own, but older, deeper — echoed back from the flame:

> "Because you remember what others choose to forget."

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🩸 Vision of the Past

Aaron saw:

Skyborn kings burning the names of tyrants from stone.

A woman — his mother — standing between him and a blade meant for silence.

Lucien, kneeling before the same altar, long ago… rejected.

Aaron fell to his knees.

Ashen touched his shoulder, his eyes wide with understanding.

> "You weren't born to obey," the child said softly.

"You were born to cleanse."

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🎭 The Masquerade Begins

That night, Aaron arrived at the masquerade — masked in silver and black.

Music played. Lies danced. Nobles toasted to peace while planting daggers in each other's backs.

He moved like shadow. Daskel was there — older, smug, drinking from a sapphire glass.

> "Third Adviser," Aaron whispered, slipping beside him.

> "Do I know you?" the man asked.

> "No," Aaron said. "But your fire knows me."

His hand touched Daskel's arm — and the poison in his veins ignited.

Daskel gasped — and crumbled silently.

No one noticed.

Except one.

Across the room, behind a golden mask, stood Lucien — watching.

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🔚 Final Line

Aaron met his gaze.

Neither moved.

But the fire between them?

It smiled.

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