The lotus burned without smoke.It stood at the heart of the ruined square like a lantern made of breath — red petals edged with winter light, opening and closing as if asleep.Inside the clear ice, Kaen lay still.Yuj hung half-conscious in Alaric's arms.
Crowds whispered.Healers ran.Varrin appeared — robes immaculate, eyes reflecting the flower's pulse.
"A fascinating phenomenon," he murmured."A flower of ash. It suits our city."
Alaric's tone was iron.
"Two of my students almost died. Someone helped that happen."
Varrin smiled.
"Ember has enemies. We adapt."
He turned away. The conversation ended before it began.
The infirmary smelled of snow and metal.When Yuj woke, the world swam.Alaric sat beside him, sleeves rolled, cane across his knees.
"Don't sit up," Alaric said. "You'll ruin my bandages.""You… stayed?""Against my better judgment."
The cup he pressed to Yuj's lips tasted of herbs and heat.It hurt to swallow.
"Where's Kaen?""Safe. Frozen."
Behind a frost-glass panel, Kaen's silhouette slept inside ice. The lotus's light pulsed through the floorboards.
Yuj touched his wrist — the mark shattered, green veins glowing and fading.
"Why green?""Because something answered when your fire fell," Alaric said."Something that is not fire."
"Yun," Yuj whispered.
The mentor didn't laugh.
"You've been dreaming.""Since the mountain."
He told him everything — the valley, the flowers, Yun's voice.When he finished, Alaric murmured,
"Two seeds. One burns. One blooms. They rarely share the same soul."
"I didn't choose it.""That's what makes it interesting."
Alaric stood.
"Rest. I have questions for people who pretend they have answers.""Varrin?""Among others."
He paused at the door.
"If fire ever speaks again, ask what it plans to pay for what it takes."
Night fell.The lotus kept its own time, breathing light into the empty square.Couples lingered, old men prayed, and for the first time in years, Ember City looked holy.
At the edge of the plaza, Headmaster Varrin watched the petals move.When the others left, he whispered to the dark,
"Roots first… then fruit."
A gust carried the smell of iron.Somewhere behind him, a masked figure answered quietly,
"And what beautiful roots they've become."
— To be continued in Chapter 12 —