The Palace, isn't it?
It wasn't such a difficult place to figure out. There were two places in the capital city of Aethermere that were easy to locate — the Palace Quarter and the Eternal Church. Moreover, it was close to the Academy, easy to navigate even for someone as directionally challenged as me.
As I moved to leave, Emma begged to come with me. For a second, I genuinely considered locking her in Clara's room. But then I remembered the trauma she'd endured, locked in that cupboard, and the thought made my stomach turn.
'Can't do that to her. Not after everything.'
Still, I didn't know what was going to happen out there. I tried to be confident in my ability to protect her.
'Kassie's ability. Not mine.'
I grabbed her hand, and we ran out together, making for the Palace Quarter. When I started toward the usual path the carriages took, she yanked my hand back and yelled.
"That's for carriages! It'll take forever! I know a shortcut!"
Right. I'd forgotten for a moment that she was a thirteen-year-old girl who'd grown up in this city. Kids like her knew every nook and cranny, every hidden passage adults never bothered with.
She led me into a dark alley and we ran, alley after alley, branching through narrow pathways that twisted like a maze. The cobblestones were slick beneath our feet, the walls close enough to touch on both sides.
It was weird, though. People's doors and windows were either locked tight or there was simply no one around. We passed fewer than ten people as we sprinted toward the Palace Quarter, and each one hurried past without making eye contact.
'Where is everyone?'
Finally, we burst from the alley onto a main street and climbed the Central Lake Bridge, which led directly to the vast expanse of the Palace Quarter. From the bridge, I could already see a dense crowd gathered ahead — a focus of people that confused me.
They were all gathered in front of the Palace gate. Shit. I couldn't even see the gate itself from where I stood because the crowd was so thick, so tightly packed together.
Emma pulled my hand and directed me forward, taking another direction. We squeezed through bodies and elbows until we reached a spot where the landscape was slightly elevated — just enough for me to see what exactly everyone was staring at.
When I saw, I trembled.
Lira.
In front of the crowd stood a platform. On that platform, a single stake rose from arranged bundles of wood at its base. A young woman was tied to the stake, her face rough and battered, her head dangling forward in exhaustion. Scars marked her body, visible even from this distance. She looked dead already — but she was still tied there, still breathing.
'What? What are they doing? That's—'
Lira.
"LIRA!"
My voice boomed through the murmuring crowd, cutting through the chatter like a blade. I knew it reached her because she immediately jerked her head up, searching for me across the sea of faces. But she couldn't locate me right away — not through the thick press of bodies.
There was someone speaking at the front of the platform.
"Heretics!" the priest's voice rang out with righteous fury. "We teach about heretics and their evil ways! The God of Light has paved a way for us — he has saved us from eternal darkness and placed us on a path of light that leads to eternal peace. But even as individuals, we remain greedy! We are loose of gratitude, turning back and seeking the darkness we were saved from. We are insatiable!"
The crowd responded with mutters and murmurs, resonating with the priest's message like a well-rehearsed chorus.
"We hunger for darkness! We disregard light! What more could be done for us humans? Why do we always have to be like this? Why are we so insatiable? Lest we incur the wrath of the gods, we must fix ourselves!"
Annoying affirmative nods rippled through the crowd — old ladies and men, zealous younger ones shouting "Yes!" like they were at some twisted rally.
"Lira Velan," the priest declared, his voice rising to a crescendo, "since you will not abandon the darkness, we shall purge you from this world! Light the flames!"
"No—wait—what?! Stop! Please!" I forced my way through the crowd, bodies pushing me left and right. Others were yelling curses at her, their voices blending into a hateful roar.
"Heretic, be gone from this world!"
"Die!"
"Heretic!"
"She doesn't deserve to die!"
"Lira!! No!!!"
"Go be with your useless father!"
"Please someone! Save her!"
Lira ignored the chants. Instead, she surveyed the crowd, searching — looking for my voice. She finally found me as people shoved me aside, and I raised my head and hand, stretching desperately as I caught sight of a broad-shouldered man lifting a torch toward the base of the woodpile.
White flames ignited immediately around me, setting aflame the people who were pushing me. In that moment, I cared about nothing else. I was far enough from Emma — I had to believe that. I just needed to reach Lira.
The people thrashed and screamed as fire consumed them. Chaos erupted as the flames spread. The priest on the platform yelled frantically.
"Burn her!"
The torch fell and fire erupted around her, engulfing the base of the stake in hungry orange flames.
But Lira—
She didn't look pained, or hateful, or even angry. She stubbornly held my gaze, making me pause instinctively despite the chaos. The look in her eyes — it was a painful kind of delight, something bittersweet and heartbreaking.
She tilted her head slightly and gave me a small smile, mouthing wordlessly with her lips:
"Thank you."
The flames surged upward and consumed her, burning furiously. They blocked my vision, rising higher and higher until I couldn't see her anymore. I couldn't hear a cry from her, couldn't hear anything over the roar of fire and screaming. Everything was thrown into utter chaos, and my world seemed muffled, distant — like I was underwater and drowning.
'Lira.'
Flashbacks hit me all at once. Our strange first meeting, the moments when she was awkwardly cute, fumbling over her words. The times we ate together, laughing about nothing important. That night in the alley when she'd confessed. The next day in her house, on her bed, when everything had felt right for once.
Everything in me screamed, but without a voice. It was a mix of rage and pain so intense it felt like being torn apart from the inside.
I fell to my knees, eyes frozen on the burning pyre.
'Lira...'
Lira.
My voice broke.
"LIRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
With that scream, white flames exploded around me. The entire plaza changed, transformed by fire. Pillars of flame began to erupt from the ground, and masses of people were set ablaze, their screams joining the inferno.
I could feel that strange connection — like the first time, when I didn't need to say a word and Kassie immediately understood what I needed.
The Pyre Saint had manifested behind me, her presence overwhelming and terrible.
And her ultimate signature ability had undoubtedly been activated.
Somehow, I had enforced it with my rage, amplified it with my grief.
The world burned.
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