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**Chapter Eleven: The Sins Beneath the Flame**
The emberkeeper's chamber faded around me, but the memory burned on.
My father. Smiling. My mother. Laughing. Before they became the storm and the scar. Before grief carved fire into a weapon.
I stood in silence as the final ember spiraled down, landing in my open palm. It didn't burn.
"They were powerful," I whispered.
"They were in love," the emberkeeper replied. "And that was more dangerous than power."
Kaelen stepped forward. "So what shattered them?"
"A lie," the emberkeeper said, her eyes growing distant. "And a choice—made too late."
Before I could press her, the Watcher raised his head.
"We're not alone," he murmured.
We turned in unison.
A figure stepped out from behind one of the broken arches—a man wrapped in dark leather, one side of his face covered by a carved metal mask. His eyes were the color of rusted gold.
Kaelen's hand dropped to the hilt of her blade. "Who are you?"
The man ignored her. His gaze landed on me. Not cold. Not kind.
Just... known.
"You're her daughter," he said, as if tasting the truth. "And you've brought the sword back to life."
I said nothing.
He lowered his hood. The mask only covered the scars. The rest of his face was familiar in ways that made my stomach twist.
Then he said it.
"I was your uncle once."
The world tilted slightly.
"My brother," he added, voice flat, "was the fire that broke this world."
I glanced at the Watcher. He looked stunned.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"To warn you," the man said. "Your father knows. The sword. The trial. You. He's awake now—and he's coming."
The emberkeeper stepped forward. "She's not ready to face him."
"Good," the man said. "Neither was I."
Then he vanished into smoke.
I stared at the place he'd stood, heart pounding.
"If he's telling the truth," Kaelen said, "then the Fire King stirs. And all of this—the sword, the pendant, your awakening—it was just the beginning."
The Watcher looked at me grimly.
"This isn't a journey anymore, Ailani. This is a reckoning."
I felt the blade thrum behind me, and the flame-mark on my skin tighten like a second skin.
The fire inside me wasn't just growing.
It was waking something far older than I was ready to understand.
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