Page 23 of The Bloodstone Oath

Smoke drifted through the lower forges’ arcade. Mining crews huddled around braziers, murmuring prayers to the First Flame.

A crimson banner snapped overhead, proclaiming: By decree of the Council of Regents, the throne stands in trust until Prince Kaelor returns to prove his claim.

I left him dying to chase peace…Fury and grief tangled like molten metal in quenched water.

He slipped into an alley and fired a thumb-sized ember-flare, two short bursts, one long, toward the old training tower. Moments later steel boots rang on the stair. General Orik emerged, breastplate dusty, salt-and-ash beard bristling.

“High-Blade,” Orik growled, crushed relief threading the reprimand, “I expected you earlier.”

“I expected my kingdom to be intact,” Kaelor shot back.

They clasped arms, burning loyalty in Orik’s grip. In the shadowed niche Orik told how after Dragan’s death Malek had formed a provisional junta, promising grain and glory. The general had feigned loyalty to infiltrate the traitors. “Many officers wait to see if their true prince, now King, returns.” Orik bowed low, and raised Kaelor’s hand to his lips, vowing his fealty.

“My mother?”

Orik’s gaze softened. “Poisoned four nights ago, failed dose. Her physicians sealed her wing, claiming weakness, but she sends messages daily, begging caution. She well understands, Malek’s blood feeds on war.”

“I will see the traitors,” Kaelor said. Together they went to the hidden balcony, which overlooked the throne chamber. Below, Malek’s allies bickered over empty grain silos, Rootborn retaliation rumors, and whether to march south to Bloomrest and attack. Kaelor etched faces into memory. They would all pay for their treachery.

Back in the catacomb map-room, Kaelor traced routes on a lava-glass table. They forged a two-edged plan: Orik would recall the loyal Inferno Guard under guise of frontier duty, while Kaelor slipped with Varienna back to Bloomrest to cure Selara, and cement Root-and-Flame unity before Malek could muster a siege.

“There is another option.” Orik hesitated as his brow knit. “Dissolve the betrothal, my lord. Wed a Fireforged lady and the majority dissent dies overnight.”

Kaelor’s refusal was molten. “I would sooner let Malek wear my crown. I claim Selara in blood and oath.”

The general studied him, saw not a political trophy but a man in love, and capitulated with a grunt. “Then Emberhold will fight for her.”

Kaelor gauged the sun through a small inlet in the room. “I must return to the High-Healer, how do we get to my mother. She has lost one child, she needs to know she has not lost another.”

“Come,” Orik motioned, and led Kaelor down a series of barely lit servant passages to a small door. “She is there. I will stand guard.”

Drawing a deep break, Kaelor eased the door open and stepped into the small alcove. Queen Valeska reclined on a basalt couch, skin pale as moon-quartz, but her dark eyes sparked at his silhouette.

“My son.” Her voice trembled with both weakness and steel.

Kaelor knelt, wrapping her burning hands in his. “I failed Father. I failed you.”

“You did as he bade, that is not failure.” She pressed her signet into his palm, the ruby crest warm from her skin. “Your father’s signet rests on Malek’s finger, but take mine, you are King now.” She kissed his hand in supplication.

Kaelor swallowed the ache in his throat. “Mother… we have looked everywhere for Avelina. I hoped she returned to you.”

Valeska’s breath hitched as she smiled through tear-filled eyes. “You have returned. For now, that is enough.”

He kissed her brow, tucked the signet in his sash, and slipped away before grief crushed his composure. This was no way for the Queen of Emberhold to live.

Sunset bled vermilion across the caldera when Kaelor arrived back at the cliff cottage. Varienna met him at the door, facesmeared with ash, a crystalline draught glowing ember-orange in her vial. “One day’s ride to keep it potent,” she warned.

Orik’s six chosen Inferno Guards, veterans in dull steel instead of riotous volcanite, waited with Zaria, mounts snorting plumes into the chill. Kaelor swung into the saddle as an Inferno Guard helped Varienna mount one of her own.

“I am sorry, healer,” Kaelor said, “but we will have to ride through the night.”

A chuckle escaped the old Fae’s lips. “Just make sure you keep up.” She kicked her embersteed forward earning an appreciative nod from the warriors who followed.

As they pounded over the ridge, he looked once at the distant spires, black against the setting sun.Father, watch over me.He would reclaim his throne later; first he would save the woman whose veins now carried both root and flame.

Chapter 13 – Selara

The private chambers reserved for Bloomrest’s Bloodstone Priestess had once felt vast, walls of living bark laced with orchid-scented air, a skylight of woven branches spilling dawn across polished root-wood floors.

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