What Chapter Is The Throne Scene In Iron Flame Novels & Stories

And there was my own reflection, kneeling among them. Nyxara’s growl rolled through me. Enough. Hollowflame surged outward, burning the visions to smoke. “I’ve knelt to what deserves it,” I said. “The rest can burn.” The Throne sharpened into chains, runes descending like rain. They struck the floor and caged me in light. Dorian slammed both palms down. His light leapt through the cracks, met my flame, and braided with it. The runes blistered, shrieking in their lost language.

It said, taking my left hand and with its other arms, separated a small flame from the Throne and slapped it directly on my left palm. “Argh,” I screamed, my hands burning from the inside as the searing pain coursed through my veins, consuming me from within like molten lava. I struggled against its grip, wanting to tear my hands away as my scream got louder than my throat could manage, but the Wanderer’s iron grip anchored me in place. The flames surged from the throne, through the wanderer’s body, and into mine, winding through every nerve, every vein, every artery of my being, as if seeking something buried within me.

“You won’t.” Luna hovered above the throne, her voice echoing across the Vale. “You built this from pain.” The Blood Father snarled. “I built it from truth.” Luna raised her hands. “Then let it burn.” Her mark flared, and the throne ignited. Flames surged upward, swallowing the obsidian, the bone, the crown.

"Who was it that saved you when you were dying?" "It was Seraphina... she used her life energy—" "Liar!" Chloe's voice dripped with rage. "You absolute fool!" She spun around, ran into her room, and came back with a glowing memory crystal. "You want the truth? Then watch this!" She activated the crystal, and an image materialized in the air. It was a night with a blood-red moon hanging in the sky. A young woman, covered in blood, was kneeling in the snow. It was Isla.

She finds it hard to watch Althea, her sister, get tight whenever she comes close, and she always bats her eyes in rejection when she looks at her. Even though I can scarcely see Kohl because of my poor vision, his golden eyes attract my attention when I see him. she said to herself. Kohl's lips were pursed as he looked straight into my soul as they drew closer and shared a passionate kiss. The essence of love overpowered the speed of light that flashed across their heads. Naomi, taken aback by the odd title, questioned, "Who? Me, Queen?" as Prince Kohl whispered to her, "Queen of the iron throne." Just a housekeeper at the Palace, remember? I'm not one of the maids vying for your love.

Nonetheless, the bright full moon at the sky served enough to illuminate the grounds and other objects inside from the open windows. Likewise, the figure of a lady seated on an extravagant, intricately chiseled and decorated throne glows bright as two tall windows flash light on her like converging spotlights. The rear of her fingers altogether supported her tilted head while her other arm rests at her lap. Few meters away from her, a young man stands still, staring directly at her, awaiting the movement she will take. It is Tristan, that child she has been watching over since the first day of their meeting.

The same throne from the visions. Kael stopped walking entirely. “…That is definitely cursed.” For once— No one disagreed. My pulse pounded unevenly. Because the moment I saw the throne— Something inside me reacted violently. Not pain. Recognition. A memory that wasn’t mine flickered suddenly through my head. Silver fire. Wolves kneeling. A woman rising slowly from the throne while the earth trembled beneath her feet. I staggered slightly. Ronan caught my arm immediately. “What did you see?” I looked at the throne.

"Let them pray. Let them bleed. I have the throne. I have the crown." Her eyes were shut, magic throbbing blackly within her. "But I Will Never Let Her Take Him Back." Perfera's breath was still in the golden room like a curse. She stood alone, her shadow thrown long across the bloody-red floor of the throne chamber. The torches burned wildly—as if even the flames were afraid of her rage. In the depths below, the Citadel stirred in discontent. The people imprisoned, muted. But their prayers… they still had the temerity to whisper Krishna's name.

That night, the Hollow flame in my chest sparked a vision. Vision: The Bone Throne I stood in a city of ash. The sky was blood red, and wolves howled not in warning but in grief. I saw the Hollow Crown, shattered at my feet. Nyra sat on a throne of bleached skulls, her eyes burning white, her hands stretched wide as thousands knelt before her. "You were the firestarter," she whispered to me. "But I am the flame." Then the city collapsed into shadow. And I woke, choking. The Decision

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."