Chapter 23: Embers of Heresy

For a moment, no one spoke.

The Gate of Whispers stood wide open behind Isla, crackling with dark energy. Snow and ash danced unnaturally around her like obedient shadows. Her white gown flowed as if caught in a wind only she could feel, untouched by the cold, untouched by death.

Ivy’s heart pounded in her chest.

“You died,” she whispered. “I watched you burn.”

Isla stepped forward, a wicked smile curving her crimson lips. “You watched a body burn. A puppet I made for you to believe I’d fallen.”

Aiden stepped protectively in front of Ivy. “How?”

“I bound myself to the Void, of course,” Isla said, brushing her fingers across the edge of the stone gate. “While you were busy mourning and unravelling prophecy, I was building an empire beneath the cracks of your precious Dominion.”

“Why now?” Lilith asked, voice low and sharp. “Why show yourself now?”

Isla turned to Killian, who stood paralyzed in her shadow.

“Because my loyal little servant brought me the key,” she said, voice like velvet and venom.

Killian’s face twisted. “You used me.”

“Of course I did,” she laughed. “That was your only value.”

A flash of something flickered in his eyes—hurt? Shame? Maybe regret.

But not enough.

Isla turned to Ivy. “You’ve carried my prize long enough.”

“You’ll never touch this child,” Ivy snapped, stepping forward. “You’ll have to go through me.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Isla said, lifting a hand. Magic surged around her fingers—raw, ancient, laced with threads of the Void.

Ivy braced herself, hands igniting in response. Aiden raised his sword. Lilith and Mira stepped to either side.

But Isla didn’t attack.

Not yet.

Instead, she said, “You still don’t understand, do you? This child is not yours. Not truly. They belong to the Flame, yes—but also to the Void. My blood runs through the broken path Killian carved. When he stole your bond, he opened the gate for me.”

Ivy staggered.

“No…” she whispered.

“Oh yes. The child is ours. Yours and mine. Light and shadow. Fire and ash. And soon, they’ll choose.”

Behind Isla, the Gate pulsed again. A figure stood in the mist beyond—tall, obscured, watching.

Not Ezerel.

Something else.

The First Flame.

Or the Final One.

The child’s soul is drawing them near.

A contraction seized Ivy. She doubled over, pain ripping through her abdomen like a blade. Aiden caught her before she hit the stone.

“She’s going into labour!” Mira cried.

“No, not yet!” Ivy gasped. “It’s too soon!”

Isla’s eyes gleamed. “Right on time.”

---

The Mountain Fractures

The earth cracked beneath them as the child’s latent magic awakened. The mountain groaned like a beast, snow collapsing in sheets outside. Storms gathered. Lightning splits the sky in unnatural colours—blue, violet, and black.

The Gate began pulling.

Sucking energy from all directions.

“Get her out of here!” Lilith shouted.

Aiden lifted Ivy into his arms, but the storm resisted, winds slamming into them like invisible fists. Mira threw up a protective ward, struggling to hold it against the pressure.

Isla advanced. “You can’t run. The child will come to me. And when they do, the world you love will burn.”

Killian suddenly moved—grabbing Isla’s arm.

“No,” he said, voice breaking. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“You don’t get to stop me,” Isla hissed. “You gave me the right. You sealed the bond with your lies.”

“I can unseal it.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“Maybe not alone.”

He turned.

And looked at Ivy.

“I know you hate me,” he said, “but if we combine our flames, we might be able to sever Isla’s connection.”

Ivy shook her head, sweat pouring down her brow. “You don’t deserve my fire.”

“No,” he said. “But the child does.”

A pause.

Then she nodded.

---

The Flame Ritual

Aiden set Ivy down at the centre of the gate’s platform. Killian knelt opposite her. Mira and Lilith formed a circle, channelling energy into a protective ward. Aiden stood guard, sword humming with energy.

Isla screamed in rage as Ivy and Killian joined hands.

Their flames—gold and silver—met in a blinding spiral.

The gate shuddered.

The figure beyond it began to dissolve.

“I see you,” the child’s voice whispered from within Ivy.

“I choose…”

Isla screamed, trying to reach them.

“I CHOOSE—”

The mountain erupted in a beam of light.

---

When the Light Cleared

Ivy lay in Aiden’s arms, unconscious but breathing. The child had not yet been born—but the labour had stopped.

Killian was gone.

So was Isla.

The Gate stood closed, sealed in gold and ash.

“What happened?” Mira asked softly.

Aiden looked at Ivy. “They made the choice.”

Lilith narrowed her eyes. “And the child?”

A soft glow pulsed beneath Ivy’s skin.

A mark had appeared.

Not of fire.

Not of shadow.

But of both.

Balanced.

For now.