Chapter 23 Embers That Breathe

• The air was thick with the scent of old fire. Not smoke. Not ash. But something deeper—heat that lived in memory, in scars, in blood. Kael stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard, where once the elders of Isareth had gathered in counsel. Now, it was silent stone, broken pillars, weeds pushing through cracked marble.
• His hand rested on the hilt of a sword that no longer felt like a weapon—it was a promise. One she had once touched.
• “Elira…” The name came like breath, not speech.