🌘 Midnight – Beneath the Old Bell Tower
Aaron waited, cloak pulled tight, his back against ancient stone. The envelope led him to the base of a forgotten bell tower behind the Council library. No guards. No glyphs.
Only silence… and shadows.
Then she arrived.
The councilwoman from before — now without robe or rank — wearing only traveling black, her face clear under moonlight.
> "I suppose I should start with my name," she said.
> "I'm Mirell Vex. Eldemar blood. But that's not what matters."
Aaron crossed his arms. "Then what does?"
She handed him an old scroll.
> "Your mother's name wasn't just Elira. It was Elira Vex. She was my sister."
Aaron froze.
---
📜 The Forgotten Flame
> "They erased her after the Skyborn purge," Mirell whispered.
"She refused to give you up. They offered her silence in return for your name."
> "She chose flame instead."
Aaron unfolded the scroll.
It was a letter — faded ink, but still readable:
> "If he survives, let him remember fire not as power, but as voice."
> "Let him remember what they silence."
His hand trembled.
> "Why tell me this now?"
Mirell's voice turned sharp.
> "Because someone inside the palace is planning to silence the Council. Tonight."
---
🏰 Meanwhile — In the Barracks of the Royal Guard
A man in silver-black armor stood before his troops.
Not a general.
A captain. Known for loyalty.
But his eyes were wrong.
Too calm. Too cold.
> "The Council no longer serves the Crown," he said.
"It serves fire. That must end."
Behind him, five elite guards nodded.
One of them slipped a dagger into his sleeve — the blade engraved with The Pale Thorn symbol.
---
🩸 Two Fires Converge
Aaron looked up at Mirell.
> "Why warn me?"
> "Because you're not just her son. You're the only fire left that remembers why this kingdom was built."
> "If the Council dies now… truth dies with it."
Aaron's flame flickered in his palm.
> "Then we don't protect them," he said.
"We expose them. All of them."
---
🔚 Final Scene
Far above, in a hidden tower, Lucien looked down at the palace.
He whispered into the ash:
> "Let the child burn what we could not."
The ash scattered.
And the war beneath the throne… began.