Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Burned Road Ahead
"We didn't survive the fire just to go back to the dark."
The road stretched ahead, cracked and bleeding from the heat. Behind them, the capital still smoked—no longer the seat of an empire, but the tomb of one.
Kael kept walking.
Riven leaned against him, weak but upright, every step an act of stubborn will. His skin still bore scorched marks where the shadowflame had touched him. The godsflame protected, but not perfectly—not when Kael's focus had been torn between love and war.
They didn't talk much. There was no need.
Every breath they took was rebellion. Every footfall, freedom.
By nightfall, they found shelter beneath the roots of a fallen stone temple—just rubble now, once devoted to some long-forgotten god. Fitting, Kael thought, as he spread his cloak over Riven and tucked him into the hollow of the stone.
He watched him sleep, listening to the crackle of a small, carefully-hidden fire.
The flames were ordinary this time.
But in Kael's chest, something deeper still burned.
The world had changed. He had changed.
And there would be no turning back.
Riven stirred before dawn.
"You're watching me again," he murmured.
"You almost died," Kael replied softly. "Twice."
"I didn't."
Kael reached over and touched his face. "Because I couldn't let you go. Not again."
Riven's throat worked. "You… You turned the world to ash."
"I'd do it again."
Silence stretched between them. Then Riven whispered:
"What now?"
It was the question neither had wanted to ask—but they had to.
They had no army. No allies. No home.
The Emperor was still alive, if barely—and if Kael knew him, he would rise from the ruins more dangerous than ever. Humiliated. Furious.
"He'll come for us," Kael said. "He'll never stop."
Riven sat up, slowly. "Then we go to the rebellion. The real one. The fractured clans, the mountain lords. There are people who hate the empire more than we ever did."
Kael hesitated. "They won't trust us. Not with my name."
"Then burn it," Riven said simply.
Kael blinked.
"Burn the name. The title. Let Kael die in the fire. Let the rest of the world think the Emperor's heir is ash."
Riven leaned in, fierce despite the pain in his eyes. "We don't need crowns, Kael. We just need truth. If you want a new world—build it with your own hands."
Kael stared at him.
And then, for the first time in what felt like years—he smiled.
They spent the next days moving north, deeper into forgotten roads, listening to the whispers that traveled faster than fire.
The prince is dead, they said. The rebel was executed.
The capital has fallen. The Emperor lives.
There was fire—unnatural fire. It screamed like a god.
The sky turned red. The stars wept ash.
Legends were being born, and Kael and Riven were their ghosts.
They reached the edge of the mountain ranges before they saw another living soul.
A woman dressed in scavenged armor stood guard outside a hidden pass. Behind her, a dozen others held weapons with makeshift courage. Rebels, clearly.
She raised her blade at them.
"You don't belong here," she said sharply.
Kael stepped forward.
"Then let us earn it."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Name?"
Kael didn't hesitate.
"No name. Just fire."
Ready to push into Chapter 29—when Kael and Riven begin to unite the fractured rebellion?