The early mist of dawn hung heavy over the training fields of Iveryn. From above, the towers shimmered in a hue of blue and silver, soaked in the breath of coming war. Though the sun had yet to rise fully, the castle never slept now. Not since betrayal had seeped into its bones.
Nyx spun with the Butterfly Blade in a dance of precision and flame, its gleaming edge catching the first light of the waking horizon. Her midnight braid trailed behind her, glinting with sweat and purpose. Across from her, Lira moved like a phantom, arrows notched with the grace of the Moon Arrow. Neither spoke. Their silence was forged in trust.
Elysera stood at the edge, arms folded, watching. The morning chill kissed her bare shoulders, but her auburn hair was braided tight and high, a crown of fire around her determined face. Nirelle stood beside her, wearing light armor, lavender hair coiled into a bun, brushing lightly against Elysera's cheek as she leaned in.
"You think they'd let me join?" Nirelle asked with a half-smile.
"You're already one of us," Elysera said.
Their hands brushed.
Palace Chambers
Later that day, Elysera sat cross-legged on the bathhouse bench, her royal attire stripped, her skin glistening from enchanted steam. Nirelle moved behind her, gently unpinning the braid.
"You're still trembling," Nirelle whispered.
"I'm not," Elysera lied.
Nirelle traced a finger down Elysera's spine. "Even when you're not bleeding, you carry pain."
The two girls stepped into the marble tub, water laced with dragonflower oil and moonroot herbs. Nirelle poured water over Elysera's hair, brushing it with a soft, rune-carved comb.
"You don't have to serve me like this," Elysera said softly.
"I'm not," Nirelle whispered. "I want to."
Their eyes met, and the world seemed to pause. Then, Elysera reached up and pulled Nirelle closer.
Elsewhere: Ren's Trial
Ren wandered the land beneath flame—the Firegate had not opened again, but it had stolen the sky. Around him was a spiraling labyrinth of memory: old faces, fallen soldiers, a mother's laugh he never remembered having.
A voice echoed:
> "No'varen thar. Vel dorien valae."
(There is no escape. Only memory.)
He spun around. Shadows walked beside him. Whispering. Laughing.
He ran.
> "No'velan varos. Tael velan en'thalen."
(You do not walk forward. You walk in circles.)
Ren dropped to his knees.
"Saal vel'rin syra'zael. Vel moren en dorai."
(I was born in lies. But I will die in truth.)
He screamed into the void—and the Gate laughed.
Lira's Silence
Lira hadn't told them. Not about Kade. Not about what she'd found. Instead, she trained harder than any of them, driving herself through pain and exhaustion. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the letter. The symbol.
Dravaryn.
She wasn't sure if it was hate or heartbreak that hurt more.
One evening, as she lay alone in the observatory, she clutched her robe and whispered into the void, "He was the one good thing."
No one heard. But the wind carried her truth.
In the Depths of Dravaryn
Lord Varyn sat upon obsidian cushions, the firelight flickering over maps etched in blood. His wife entered the room, bare-footed, dressed in dark silk. Her raven hair spilled across her shoulders.
"You're awake early," she purred.
"War doesn't wait," he said.
She slipped behind him, hands kneading his shoulders. "What of the girl with the Blade?"
"She will fall," Varyn said. "When Elara opens the second Gate, the chaos will drown them all."
"And what of Elara?"
Varyn smirked. "She believes she hunts for gods. But in truth, she digs her own grave."
She leaned in, whispering, "And if she survives?"
"Then I'll kiss her crown before I burn it."
Training Arena: Before the Storm
The soldiers of Iveryn gathered by the hundreds now. Sword lines practiced formations under magical banners that burned with living fire. Archers stood in perfect crescent formations. Mage battalions called lightning into their palms.
Children watched from behind wards, whispering in awe. Their parents were soldiers. Their dreams were forged in fire.
Elysera, Nyx, Lira, and Nirelle stood before them. Four daughters of the realm.
Queen Ivera stood atop the high terrace.
"Siraen'saal thalen, vel no'dael. Iveralis ven'ar valenor."
(Our blood may burn, but it never breaks. Iveryn stands unshaken.)
The crowd roared.
Lysenne stepped beside her. "Solane moves pieces. We cannot know if she aids or hinders."
"And Elara?"
"She sharpens her blade. Not for us. For herself."
Ivera's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll make her regret leaving her legacy unguarded."
The Unraveling Letter
That night, as Nyx polished the Butterfly Blade beneath the stars, Lira appeared behind her, holding a burned letter.
"Found this in Kade's room."
Nyx's eyes flickered.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I wasn't ready to believe it."
The letter bore Varyn's seal.
They both knew what it meant.
Ren's Choice
At the Gate, Ren stood with his blade drawn.
The spirits surrounded him now. Their language bled into his mind:
> "Shae thalen, syr'mar. Thalen vel karon."
(Then burn, boy. Burn with purpose.)
He charged the wall of flame.
Pain. Memory. Fury.
He vanished.
The Gate closed.
But something was now awake beneath Iveryn.
And it would not sleep again.
[To be continued in Chapter 16...]