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CHAPTER 29 — The Truth That Burns
The wind that swept across the Cinder Gate carried ash, memories, and ghosts.
Dragonsong barely heard any of it.
Because Liora's scream still echoed in his skull.
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
Arin stood a few steps away from her, not touching his weapon, not even lifting his head.
He looked like a soldier waiting for execution — and maybe, deep inside, he believed he deserved it.
The Herald watched them all in silence, sensing the weight of the moment.
Liora's voice shook.
Not with fear.
With betrayal.
"You were there," she whispered. "At that night. At the massacre. You were in the uniform of the king who ordered the attack."
Arin's jaw tightened. "Yes."
"Then you…"
Her breath caught.
"You were one of the soldiers trying to kill us."
"No," Arin finally said.
Then louder, firmer:
"I fought in the attack… but I didn't raise my blade against your family."
Liora's fingers trembled. "You expect me to believe that?"
Dragonsong moved between them — not choosing a side, just preventing the storm from exploding.
"How did you survive?" he asked Arin quietly.
"Explain. All of it."
Arin closed his eyes.
And the truth began to fall from him like armor cracking apart.
"I was a new recruit — barely trained. They told us your village was hiding a weapon… a fragment of the Sovereign himself."
He swallowed.
"And when we arrived, the commander ordered us to kill everyone. No witnesses."
Liora covered her mouth, tears burning down her cheeks.
Arin's voice broke.
"I couldn't do it. I ran through the smoke and fire looking for survivors… not targets."
His gaze met Liora's.
"Then I found you. You were just a girl. Bleeding. Crying for help."
He paused.
"I carried you out. I hid you behind the river cliffs. I made noise to draw the soldiers away. I lied in my report. I said you were already dead."
Liora stared at him like he was a stranger wearing Arin's face.
"You saved me," she whispered.
"And you kept it secret."
Arin's throat tightened. "I was afraid to tell you. Afraid you'd see me as one of them. Afraid you'd hate me."
The silence that followed was heavier than stone.
Then Liora stepped back — just one small step — but it felt like the world sliding apart.
"I don't know how to feel," she whispered.
"I'm angry. I'm grateful. I'm confused. I'm hurt. I'm… everything at once."
Arin bowed his head. "You're allowed to be."
Dragonsong looked at both of them — the girl torn between past and present, and the boy crushed by guilt he had carried alone.
"Enough," Dragonsong said quietly.
"The Sovereign is waking. The Cinder Gate is open. If we keep breaking each other here…"
He looked toward the golden wound in the sky.
"…none of this will matter."
The Herald finally spoke.
"He is right. Your personal pain must wait. What hunts you now is not a memory — it is a god."
The ground beneath them rumbled like a heartbeat.
Slow.
Deep.
Vast.
Arin wiped his eyes, steadying himself.
"Then what do we do?" he asked.
The Herald turned toward the rising light.
"You go through the Cinder Gate," she said.
Liora stepped closer to Dragonsong, her voice trembling.
"And then?"
The Herald's eyes filled with something that looked like fear.
"You face the place where the Sovereign died."
She paused.
"And where another Sovereign must rise."
Dragonsong felt the truth slam into him like a blade.
Him.
They meant him.
The sky split.
The Gate opened.
And destiny called.
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