The wind howled as they rode northeast, away from Daiyuan Citadel and deeper into the forgotten lands of Xianridge Province—once a cradle of fire temples, now overrun by fog and famine.Jin hadn’t spoken in hours.Not since Jian’s confession.> “She called it the Heartless Flame,” Jian had said. “It’s not just destructive. It severs flame from soul. Permanently.”The words echoed louder than the galloping of hooves or the snapping of banners in the wind.Fei rode beside him, her eyes watchful. “You remember something, don’t you?”Jin’s jaw tightened. “A place. A moment. One I buried.”Lu Yun caught up on the other side. “You said Moyin needed a child strong enough to hold a weapon even she feared. That narrows it.”> “Too much,” Jin replied. “She wouldn’t have chosen anyone easily found. She’d hide them somewhere no one would look. Somewhere… I already forgot.”---They found it on the third day.A broken sign, half-swallowed by ivy, read: House of Divine Mercy.An orphanage.Jin dism

The banners of unity hadn’t even cooled before the decree arrived.A sky scroll, woven from storm-silk and imperial bone paper, tore through the clouds and unfurled above Daiyuan Citadel, casting its shadow across the gathered flamebearers.It read:> By order of the Celestial Council, Flamebearer Jin Longwei and all rogue embers under his command are hereby declared insurgents.The Flame of Empire is not to be divided. The Pulse is to be returned. Obedience is survival. Resistance is treason.– Signed, Grand Arbiter Sima Ru, Acting Voice of the CouncilA silence fell across the courtyard.Even the flames seemed to pause.Fei stepped forward, her hand tightening around her sword hilt. “They didn’t wait a day. Cowards.”Jin read the scroll a second time, slower.> “They expected this would shake us,” he murmured. “Make us question ourselves. But they’re too late. The Pulse already changed hands.”Lu Yun stepped beside him. “Still, if we resist, we give them the justification they want.

The Sky Chamber was not built for mortal feet.Suspended between three mountains and tethered by floating bridges woven from windsteel, it hovered above the imperial capital like a star that refused to fall. Only the Council’s highest members could summon its platform from the clouds.But tonight, Jin Longwei walked those bridges.Not as a servant.Not as a prisoner.As a flamebearer seeking truth.Fei, Lu Yun, and Shen stood behind as the crystal door slid open. Only three were permitted to enter.> “Remember,” Shen said quietly, adjusting the simple council robes he’d once worn with pride, “they are not allies yet. Merely cornered tigers unsure whether to strike or flee.”Jin nodded. “Then let’s show them the way out.”---Inside, the Sky Chamber gleamed with old majesty. Glyphlight pulsed beneath their steps. Above, memories were projected into constellations—a live record of empire.Three Councilors waited.Ahan, the blind Seeress who had once called for unity.Councilor Mei-Lin,

The courtyard of Daiyuan Citadel had never held so many voices.Under the open sky, cloaked in banners of every known sect and lineage, the Flame Summit began.Elders in sky-silk robes. Nomads with ember-branded skin. Disgraced exiles returned from self-imposed silence. Even former enemies—some who had once hunted Jin—stood side by side, bound not by trust, but by fear of what came next.Fei moved like fire through the crowd, marking expressions, catching whispered insults.> “Some of these orders fought each other for decades,” she muttered. “Now we expect them to sit and sing?”> “No singing,” Jin said as he stepped forward. “Just listening.”He took the central platform—where the altar shimmered gold from the Ember Pulse’s rhythm.The room fell quiet.> “I am not your king. I am not your savior,” Jin said, voice clear. “I am only a flamebearer. Like all of you.”Some scoffed. Others waited.> “But today, we must decide together—whether we pass this fire forward… or let it consume u

The skies over the empire dimmed—not with shadow, but with forgetting.Birds circled in confusion. Leaves fell from trees out of season. Children woke from sleep with no names on their tongues. Entire towns paused in silence as collective thoughts… unraveled.Far beneath the capital, the Flame Well stirred.A sacred chamber older than the empire itself—carved into the bones of the first mountain, lined with runes no flamebearer dared rewrite. It was here that the first ember sparked, born of grief and love and war.And it was here that Rin Longwei now stood.Her robes torn. Hair loose. Hands soaked in ritual blood.She smiled as the flames rippled around her feet—not wild, but obedient.> “You were the first fire,” she whispered. “Now you’ll be the last.”Behind her knelt six chained flamebearers—once Council loyalists, now hollow-eyed. Their memory-sparks hovered above their skulls, twisted into a crown of stolen thoughts.Rin raised both hands.> “Erase the lie. Leave only the truth