## CHAPTER 28: _"The Burning of Brotherhood"_
Night fell like a blade over the rebellion camp, cutting into every pocket of silence with dread. In the shadow of loyalty, a fracture had formed—one that no spell or sword could mend.
Cael stood alone at the edge of the Emberwatch Ridge, where the winds howled louder than his conscience. The raven he sent had returned with a single message: *"The price of power is blood."* And he'd already made his decision.
Inside the command tent, Lysia stood over a map inked in flame script, tracing her fingers over the valleys that once protected Elira's old kingdoms. Now, they were warzones in waiting.
> "He's late," Arien muttered, pacing behind her.
> "Cael?" Lysia asked.
> "He hasn't reported from the western patrol. And the wards there flickered."
She stiffened. The air around her thinned.
> "He wouldn't..."
But she couldn't finish the sentence. Not because she doubted Cael's ability—but because deep down, she knew betrayal when it breathed her name.
---
A scout burst into the room.
> "A breach—northwestern ridge. We lost two Flamebound. The enemy knew our layout."
> "Cael..." Arien growled.
Lysia said nothing. She took her blade and walked out.
---
In the forest beyond the camp, Cael met with a messenger cloaked in moonlight—an emissary of the Archivist. The man's eyes were sewn shut, yet he navigated perfectly.
> "You delivered chaos. Good," the emissary said.
> "You promised safety for her. Lysia lives, or no deal."
> "You think he keeps promises?"
A sword emerged from the darkness, piercing Cael's shoulder. He howled.
> "This is mercy. The next will be through your chest. The Archivist never shares the crown."
But just as the emissary raised his hand to signal execution, fire erupted in the trees.
Arien charged first, his sword blazing with fire script. Lysia followed, eyes glowing with wrath.
> "You chose your page in the story, Cael," she whispered. "And it's written in ash."
The battle was swift. The emissary burned. Cael survived—but not unscathed. His right arm, the one that once held the Flamebound banner, was severed.
---
Back in camp, Lysia gathered her council.
> "From now on, we fight with open eyes. No more secrets. No more mercy for traitors."
She turned to Cael, bandaged and silent.
> "You were my brother in fire. But fire doesn't mourn what turns to smoke."
> "Exile me," he whispered.
> "No," she said. "You'll stay. You'll train recruits. You'll watch every day what loyalty looks like. That's your curse."
---
That night, Arien held Lysia's hand.
> "You didn't kill him."
> "Because love is already a curse. I won't make war a second one."
The stars burned low.
The rebellion tightened.
And in the distance, the Archivist smiled.
> "Let them think unity makes them strong. All it takes is one memory rewritten, and they'll burn each other without me lifting a quill."
But the fire had changed.
It wasn't just survival.
It was memory. It was truth.
It was brotherhood—tested and burned—but not broken.
Not yet.