Chapter 40

Father was right. I never should have left.

If I had stayed - if I had endured the misery instead of fleeing - none of this would have happened. I would not have been captured by the necromancer. Seth would not have been burned by my fire. Mirri and Lilae would never have been threatened. And Seth would not be standing here now, about to die because of my selfishness.

The weight of it crushed me.

I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I had done. Ashamed of how much pain I had caused. This should have been my punishment, not Seth’s. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could say that would make Father change his mind. Nothing I could say that would convince Seth to let me bear this alone.

Father approached me.

I don’t what he said. It didn’t matter. This was my fault, and I was powerless - as I had always been. He cupped my head gently, his eyes soft, sorrowful. For a moment, he looked like the father I once wanted to believe in.

The moment ed swiftly and his expression hardened. He jerked my head back and closed his hand around my throat. I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt it - the fire in my chest surging upward, burning my throat from the inside. His power seized it, tore into my soul. I tried to scream, but the fire drowned the sound. My throat burned raw. My strength vanished. Only his grip kept me upright.

With a sharp, tearing snap, my fire was ripped free.

He released me. I collapsed to the stone, gasping. My fire burned in his grasp, held aloft like a trophy. In that moment, I felt less than whole - less than a dragon. Cold. Empty. Hollow. As though something essential had been carved out of me.

He turned to Seth.

With a single, merciless motion, he pressed his burning claw into Seth’s chest, sealing my fire inside him. Seth screamed. I screamed with him, the pain echoing through me, tearing at my heart. I roared - not in fury, but in grief and shame.

He would die.

He would die because of me. Because of my choices. Because I had wanted something for myself. And only when he died would my fire return. Only then would I be made whole again.

Father turned back to me.

“When she loves,” he said, his voice smooth and cruel, “she will what it cost another to make that indulgence possible.”

His lips curled into a smirk before he faced Seth again.

“Fire re,” he told him. “It re its source. Its purpose. Its kin. When flame is divided, it longs to be whole. The closer the bearer draws to its origin, the hotter it burns. Affection tightens the bond. Love completes it.”

Seth looked at me.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. Not after what I had done. Not after what Father had done. Not after what I had become. I just wanted it to end - to stop the pain. The pain I felt. The pain I had caused.

“Serah,” Seth said, and stepped toward me. His face twisted in pain as the skin on his chest blistered.

A mirrored agony lanced through me. “No!” I cried. “Stop - stay away!”

He took another step. Smoke curled from his skin as it blackened. My chest tightened, my pain only a shadow of his - but still unbearable.

“Don’t come closer!” I begged. “It will kill you!” I retreated, **** to put distance between us. To stop hurting him.

“Serah,” he said again, softly. His expression was still gentle. Still kind.

“Why are you doing this?” I sobbed, tears burning down my cheeks as I backed away.

Behind him, Father’s smirk widened into a grin. This was what he wanted. This is what he knew would happen. Seth would kill himself. My punishment would be to watch. And Seth’s - for his kindness, his friendship, his love - would be ****.

“Because you are my friend,” he said. “And I cannot bear to be without you.” He took another step. Flames licked through his flesh. “And I will never-” he took another step “-ever-” and another “-leave you. I love you.” He stepped forward and collapsed, flames erupting from his chest, reducing his shirt to ash.

“If this is the cost of loving you,” he said quietly, forcing himself upright, “then I will bear it.”

Then he raised his voice, shouting into the caldera. “If this is the fire you demand, then I will endure it! I will grow stronger! I have survived your flame before!”

His eyes met mine. And he was right. Against all reason, against all expectation, he had survived my fire once before. I could only pray - fiercely, desperately - that he could do it again.

* * *

My heart beat, and the world shuddered.

I took another step. Pain tore through me, searing muscle and bone. Flames rose from my chest, ticking my face. How could they tickle when I was in agony?

Another beat. Another shudder. Like a knock - deep and distant - a fist against a great door.

I drew in a breath and it caught in my chest. I coughed, red flame spilling from my lips.

Another beat. Another knock.

This was going to kill me.

But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t fail Serah. I couldn’t leave her here - alone with him.

I **** myself forward two more steps and collapsed again.

I had to crack his legend. Had to show someone - anyone - that his rule was not absolute. That obedience was not inevitable. If even one of them saw that defiance was possible… there was hope. For Serah.

Another beat. Another knock - harder this time. The impact rattled my soul, and the world along with it.

I tried to rise and failed.

Another knock.

For an instant, there was grass beneath my hands - cool, alive - then it was gone, replaced by hot, unforgiving stone. I dragged my knees under me, planted my feet, trembling.

Knock.

Thin smoke coiled around me, clouding my vision, swallowing the far edges of the caldera.

I pushed.

Knock.

A whisper brushed my ear. “…believe in…”

I rose, swaying, legs barely obeying. The smoke shifted, stirred by a breeze too gentle to be real.

Knock - this one louder.

“…the step.”

I took one.

Knock. It reverberated inside me, the hinges of something immense groaning under the strain.

“You can…”

A cobblestone path shimmered into being beneath my feet, half-real, as if the world itself was uncertain whether it should exist.

I took another step.

Numbness crept in. Maybe the nerves were burned away. Maybe this was **** - slow, quiet, merciful. Maybe my mind had already let go.

All that remained was the knocking. The pounding. The demand.

Bang.

I staggered, the **** of it tearing through me.

The path led to Serah. Grass unfurled along its edges, spreading outward with each step.

“You can do it,” the whisper said. Closer now. Familiar, though I couldn’t place it.

My heart beat in time with the bangs. My soul shuddered with each one. They came faster now - stronger - more insistent.

I took another step-

Bang.

“They believe in you.”

The voice was closer. Louder. Whatever it was was nearly here.

-and another step.

Bang.

“Just take the step.”

I did.

I reached out and touched Serah’s tear-streaked face.

The smoke cleared.

Bang.

My soul shattered and everything I was exploded out of me.

* * *

The look on this godling’s face when he realized the full extent of the punishment was delicious.

The comprehension that proximity itself was punishment. That standing in Serathiel’s presence would burn him. That to embrace her - to reach for her - would end him. Not even a god could endure those fires. They did not merely burn flesh; they seared away Faith, Will, and meaning alike.

Zaryth had not endured. Nor Selmira. Nor Ithynae. This Seth would be the fourth god consumed by my flame.

He would destroy himself, or he would surrender - and I would destroy him regardless. I was uncertain which outcome I desired more.

Either way, Serathiel would break. She would never leave again. She would learn obedience in place of longing. At first there would be resistance - there always was - but once the fracture formed, shaping her would be effortless. She would become what she was meant to be - my good little girl. Mine.

The godling took a step toward my little Kindlesun, and his flesh began to smoke.The scent made my mouth water and my stomach rumble with hunger.

Serathiel retreated, understanding finally dawning in her eyes. Terror followed. Pain. The slow, delectable bloom of hopelessness.

I did not bother hiding my grin - I couldn’t. I was giddy with anticipation as I imagined the moment she would watch him die. How cleanly that lesson would carve itself into her.

He spoke - words of comfort, of defiance, of hope. They always did. It never mattered. Hope did not cool flame. He faltered. Stumbled.

He might actually see this through to his end. I was mildly impressed. Few possessed the will to walk willingly into annihilation. Most begged. Most surrendered.

He raised his voice, calling out to the gathered dragons - the witnesses of his end, the congregation of my inevitability. There was always a final appeal. Some imagined rescue. Others prayed for mercy. Still others hoped the beloved would flee and spare them the cowardice they would otherwise bear.

“If this is the fire you demand, then I will endure it. I will grow stronger.” Tedious bravado. Predictable. I was beginning to tire of him.

“I have survived your flame before.”

I stopped. What did he mean by that? And why had Serathiel stopped backing away? Had she resigned herself to his fate? Would she be the one to destroy him? No. My little Kindlesun did not possess that kind of strength. She could not weather the consequences of such an action. So why did she stop?

The godling pressed on. Flames crawled across his chest, front and back, gnawing eagerly. His Faith thinned with every step. I could smell it roasting, hear its fragile structure crackle as it weakened. I hoped he would not squander it all before I could claim what remained. Before I would feast upon his bones.

His Faith wavered - on the brink of collapse. Impressive. Annoying, but impressive.

He was nearly upon her now. Near enough to die.

Yet she did not flee. Fear was etched plainly on her face - but not grief. Not despair. Not the unraveling I had expected. Why?

He reached out and touched her-

-and his Faith detonated.

I recoiled, scales flaring as I shielded my eyes. Heat and light washed over the caldera, radiant and violent. Through the blinding glare I saw Serathiel’s flame tear free from his chest, hover between them for a single, suspended breath - and then return to her.

It struck her breast like a falling star. She reared back and roared, flame and sound tearing from her throat.

The light intensified, swallowing everything-

Then faded.

I lowered my claws slowly, blinking away the afterimages burned into my vision.

* * *

Something struck me like a hammer, sparks leaping from my soul.

Clang.

It hit again - harder - slamming into my chest, sealing the hole where Serah’s fire had torn free of me.

“You can do this”, the voices said. “They believe in you. Just take the step.”

I understood them now. I recognized them. They weren’t words for me. They were from me.

Every word of encouragement I had ever given - for my brother, my sister, my friends, the developers I’d worked beside, strangers on the street. Ashlara. Lilae. Mirri. Serah. Every quiet reassurance, every stubborn insistence that someone could go on - that things would get better. Those words had never vanished.

They were still here. Because they were me.

Clang.

I was not the god of failure. I was the god of belief. Of hope. Of faith in the absence of proof. The god of the first step taken without knowing where it led. The god of uncertain futures and the will to walk into them anyway.

Clang.

My Faith struck again, reforging me. Strengthening me.

It didn’t erase the imperfections within me - the fear, the anxiety, the depression, the imposter syndrome. It set them in place. Tempered me. The brittle hardness softened, given resilience instead of rigidity. I was not flawless steel. I was tempered iron - bent, tested, unbroken.

I felt my demesne shift. Yveth had been right. It had been unbalanced - because I had been unbalanced. All my second-guessing and dread had shaped it. The path forward was always obscured. The way back - where every mistake lived - had been clear and inviting. I had been walking backward through life.

For the first time, I turned. I faced the future.

I wouldn’t forget what lay behind me. That would be folly. The past would shape me, sharpen me, prepare me. But I wouldn’t live there any longer. I would live for what I had and what would come.

Uncertainty waited ahead. I welcomed it.

I drew a deep breath. There was no pain. No fear.

I opened my eyes.

Serah stood before me in her grace and glory - wings spread wide, head held high, eyes burning bright with fire. I smiled. She smiled in return.

Then I turned to Pyraeth.

I raised my hand.

A heartbeat later, the ground to my left erupted as Adhaneth tore free from the depths where I had left it, flying into my grasp with a thunderous cry of steel and Faith.

The caldera lay in an unnatural hush, the air heavy and unmoving.

“The Rite of Shared Flame is concluded,” I announced, my voice carrying effortlessly to every watching eye. I met the god of dragons’ gaze and held it. “The Scars of Serathiel have been given. Her burden has been borne. My claims were tested by fire - and they endure. Let all who witnessed this day.”

Pyraeth’s fury stood naked before us. Smoke curled from his jaws with each breath, heat rippling from his scales. I wondered if he could restrain it.

His legend of inevitability lay in shards at his feet. His rule might yet endure - but never again unchallenged. Others would . Others would test him. The future, for the first time, did not belong solely to him.

For a heartbeat, it seemed he would strike - rage surging toward ****. Then his jaws snapped shut, and his voice emerged iron-hard. “The Rite is complete. The burden borne. The moot is concluded.”

Silence followed.

Then one dragon leapt skyward, wings catching the dying light. Another followed. And another. One by one, they departed, their scales flashing like multicolored embers against the setting sun, until the caldera was empty once more.

When only Pyraeth remained, I inclined my head in a formal bow.

“Thank you, Flamefather,” I said evenly. “You have given me more than you know.”

“This is not finished,” he rumbled.

“Yes,” I replied, turning my back on him, “it is.”

I took hold of Serah’s great claw and together, we stepped into my demesne.