The throne chamber of Emberhold was dim and silent, save for the crackling of lava streams beneath the glass floor. Kael stood alone before the obsidian throne, replaying Amara's words in his mind.
"She means to use you," Thalen had warned the night before. "Even allies can be dangerous."
But Kael couldn't shake the sense that there was more to the Queen's intentions and that something someone was watching.
That someone revealed himself during the feast held in Kael's honor.
He arrived cloaked in shadow, a silver mask concealing his features. Queen Amara introduced him as Envoy Varik, a diplomat from the eastern provinces. But Thalen's eyes narrowed the moment Varik spoke.
"Your shard burns brighter than expected, Kael," the envoy said. "Perhaps too brightly."
Kael met his gaze. "Do you speak for Malagar?"
Varik chuckled. "I speak for those who believe in balance and in keeping such power from reckless hands."
Later that night, Kael caught Varik slipping from the feast. He followed, shadowing him through the volcanic tunnels beneath Emberhold. There, in a sealed chamber carved with ancient runes, Varik met with two cloaked figures Malagar's spies.
Kael stepped from the shadows, fire flickering in his palm.
"This is your last warning," he said.
Varik smiled coldly. "No, Kael. This is yours."
A blade sang through the air. The chamber erupted in fire and steel. Kael fought with newfound control, the shard guiding his strikes. Thalen arrived in time to shield him from a shadow spell, and together they drove the traitors back.
By dawn, the Queen summoned them.
"You knew," Kael accused.
"I suspected," Amara replied. "But now we are exposed. Malagar knows you're here."
She revealed a map an old war route through the Dead Vale, a place untouched by time and cursed by magic. One of the shards lay hidden there, according to her spies.
"If you still wish to fight," she said, "go there and may the flames guide you."
Kael looked at Lysara, Thalen, and Merek. Each nodded.
There was no turning back.
It was war.