Chapter 30: Priestess Melanie
Ember lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The knock at her door earlier had been soft, hesitant, but she hadn’t answered. Prince Liam had brought her food, but fear of what he might say had kept her frozen in place.
When the knocking stopped, she waited, listening to his retreating footsteps. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. She walked to the door and opened it cautiously. The food was still there, neatly placed on the ground.
She picked it up and carried it to the table, the aroma wafting through the room. The chicken smelled delicious, and when she tasted it, her lips curled into a small smile. It was perfect.
For a moment, she thought about thanking Liam, but the thought quickly faded. He wasn’t there anymore.
After eating, Ember still couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts were restless, circling around Liam’s rejection and the secrets she carried.
How would he feel when he found out she was the fireborn?
Would he still reject her?
Her heart ached at the thought. She didn’t know why—it was strange, almost impossible—but it felt like they had known each other forever.
Unable to stay still, Ember decided to take a walk. She avoided the main road, slipping into the woods to steer clear of the villagers. They always whispered about her, but she didn’t care what they thought.
Her mind wandered back to Liam. Would he hate her when he learned the truth?
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the figure on the ground until she tripped over it.
The figure shifted, moaning in pain.
“Sir?” Ember said cautiously, her voice trembling. “Are you alright?”
The man mumbled something, but she couldn’t make it out. She stepped closer, her heart pounding.
“Ember,” he whispered faintly.
She froze.
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t hear you,” she said, her voice shaking.
The man didn’t reply.
Ember reached out hesitantly, her hand trembling as she touched his shoulder.
“Ember,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible.
Her breath caught in her throat. How did he know her name?
She stepped back, instinctively taking a fighting stance. “Who are you? How do you know me?”
Moments passed, and the man didn’t move. Ember’s panic began to subside, replaced by curiosity. She rolled him over with her foot, her eyes widening in shock.
“Michael.”
Her father.
Tears welled in her eyes as she knelt beside him, her hands trembling. “Dad… why did you come here? Were you looking for me?”
Michael’s breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Ember’s gaze fell to the wound across his chest—a deep, jagged whip splitting his skin.
Her heart shattered.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she sobbed, clutching his hand. “I’m sorry for everything. For Tracy. For Eira. For Samantha. For running away. I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
Her flames flickered to life, but they were different now—blue and cool, like water.
She looked down at Michael’s hand, watching in awe as the flames crept onto his skin. She tried to stop them, but they moved on their own, covering his wound like molten lava.
When the flames faded, the injury was gone.
Michael gasped for air, clutching his chest. Ember held him tightly, her tears falling freely.
“It’s okay, Princess,” Michael murmured, his voice weak but steady. “I’ve got you. I found you.”
He kissed her forehead, and Ember sobbed into his chest, unable to form words.
He had come for her.
Back at the villa, Ember helped Michael inside, guiding him to the bed.
She sat beside him, her hands still trembling. “Dad… I need to tell you everything.”
Michael nodded, his gaze steady. “I’m listening.”
Ember took a deep breath, her voice breaking as she recounted the events that had led her here. Tracy’s betrayal. Samantha’s death. Liam’s rejection.
Michael listened silently, his expression unreadable. When she finished, he reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle.
“There’s something you need to know too,” he said softly.
Ember’s heart raced. “What is it?”
Michael hesitated, his eyes darkening.
“Your mother… Priestess Melanie. She was the fireborn before you.”
Ember’s breath caught. “What?”
“She didn’t just wield fire,” Michael continued, his voice heavy with emotion. “She wielded frost too.”
Ember stared at him, her mind struggling to process the weight of his words.
“She was meant to be the balance between both forces,” Michael said. “The prophecy spoke of two—fire and frost—but in truth, your mother was both.”
Tears streamed down Ember’s face. “But… how?”
Michael exhaled slowly. “She gave up her powers before they were sealed away. She passed them on, splitting them between you and Eira.”
Ember felt her breath leave her.
Her mother’s power.
Her mother’s legacy.
“She’s still alive, Ember,” Michael murmured. “She’s waiting for you. She’s been waiting all these years, trapped by the very forces that sought to erase her.”
Ember collapsed into his arms, her body shaking with quiet sobs.
Michael held her tightly, his own voice cracking.
“You are stronger than you know, Ember,” he whispered. “And you are not alone.”
Ember clutched at his tunic, her heart breaking and rebuilding all at once.
For the first time in years, she understood.
She wasn’t alone.
She was fire and frost.
And she would reclaim what was hers.
Michael leaned closer, his voice dropping. “There’s something else you need to know.”
Ember’s heart pounded. “What is it?”
Michael exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands together as if trying to steady himself. “King Alex knows who you are, Ember.”
The words sent a chill through her, despite the fire coursing through her veins.
Her breath stilled. “…What?”
“He knows you because he is your father,” Michael continued. “And he wants you dead.”
The room tilted.
Ember clutched the edge of the table, her pulse hammering in her ears. “No—no, that can’t be—”
Michael’s face was grim, unwavering. “He believes that if he kills you, the prophecy will never come true. That the balance will never tip, and his throne will remain intact.” He ordered me to bring you back to the kingdom before you unite with the Frostborn. If you refuse, he will send soldiers to kill you. He raised Eira and will protect her and kill you without remorse, Ember.
Ember’s chest tightened, her flames sparking around her fingertips.
Her blood-related father wanted her dead.
Michael placed a firm hand over hers, grounding her. “You need to be careful, Ember. Alex will stop at nothing to erase you.”
Ember clenched her fists, her blue flames burning brighter. “Then I’ll stop him first.”
Michael’s gaze softened, but his voice remained steady. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
Ember nodded at he words. She looked at Michael with gratitude. She knew she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.