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Mariam Akorede Student @ Adekunle Ajasin university Akungba
Ibadan, Nigeria
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 2 min read
Ice and Fire
<p>Chapter Three</p> <p>Cracks in the Flame, Whispers in the Frost</p><p><br></p> <p>The first sign came to Seren in fire.</p><p><br></p><p>She was deep in meditation, balanced barefoot over a column of blackened stone above a roaring lava flow. The Ember Guard had taught her stillness—taught her not to fear the burn but to become it. And yet, on this day, as her breath slowed and her pulse softened, the flame beneath her flickered.</p><p><br></p><p>Not from wind.</p><p><br></p><p>Not from her.</p><p><br></p><p>But from something else.</p><p><br></p><p>A ripple of cold danced across the molten surface.</p><p><br></p><p>Then, a voice—thin as ash, sharp as glass:</p><p><br></p><p>“You are not whole.”</p><p><br></p><p>Seren opened her eyes.</p><p><br></p><p>The fire was still burning. The stone still held. But her balance was gone, and she dropped to one knee, breath quick, fists clenched.</p><p><br></p><p>She told no one.</p><p><br></p><p>But that night, her dreams were full of ice.</p><p><br></p><p>---</p><p><br></p><p>Far to the north, Kaelara woke to find frost melting on her windowsill.</p><p><br></p><p>It was the middle of the Long Night. The cold should have held unbroken, yet she could feel warmth rising through the stone floor. Not comforting. Wrong.</p><p><br></p><p>She stepped outside the monastery gates. The moon cast a pale light across the cliffs.</p><p><br></p><p>And there, in the snow, were footprints.</p><p><br></p><p>Bare. Burning faintly orange. Gone before the wind could erase them.</p><p><br></p><p>Kaelara knelt, her breath held.</p><p><br></p><p>“Fire?” she whispered.</p><p><br></p><p>She reached out with her senses—through stone, through snow, through stillness—and something reached back.</p><p><br></p><p>It was fast. Hungry. And it knew her name.</p><p><br></p><p>“Kaelara…”</p><p><br></p><p>She stumbled back, frost forming defensively around her hands.</p><p><br></p><p>But the voice was already gone.</p><p><br></p><p>In its place, silence.</p><p><br></p><p>And fear.</p><p><br></p><p>---</p><p><br></p><p>Both sisters stood alone in the hours before dawn.</p><p><br></p><p>One watched fire curl and falter.</p><p><br></p><p>The other watched snow shiver and melt.</p><p><br></p><p>Neither knew the Hollow Flame had begun to move—seeping through dreams, feeding on cracks in the balance.</p><p><br></p><p>But both knew something had changed.</p><p><br></p><p>And soon… they would not be able to ignore it.</p><p><br></p>

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