The storm broke just past midnight.
Wind howled through the palace towers, rattling shutters and throwing rain against stained-glass windows. Most of the court had gone to ground after the confrontation in the Court of Blades. But Serenya couldn't sleep.
Not when the Queen's words still echoed in her skull.
"You will be watched. Tested."
She knew what that meant.
Traps. Lies. And trials hidden behind smiles.
So when the summons came—silent, but expected—she was already dressed.
Kael stood by the entrance to the lesser library, his cloak soaked, silver hair clinging to his face.
"There's something you need to see," he said without preamble.
Serenya followed him down torchlit halls and forgotten stairwells into the Lower Archives—a labyrinth of sealed histories and forbidden scrolls. Only a few scholars were allowed entry. Not even the Queen's personal scribe was permitted without blood-sealed permission.
"This is illegal," Serenya said softly, voice echoing against ancient stone.
Kael shot her a grin. "Good. That means we're probably on the right path."
They stopped before a locked iron gate etched with Solmar runes. Kael pulled a small blade from his coat, pricked his thumb, and pressed it to the lock. The metal hissed—and clicked open.
Inside, rows of scrolls and enchanted books lined the walls. Old flame runes pulsed with faint light.
Kael handed her a scroll wrapped in black velvet.
"Read that. Quietly."
She unrolled it—and stopped breathing.
It was a birth registry. Official. Stamped with the Queen's seal. Names, dates, and bloodlines.
Her mother's name was there.
And beside it, in faded ink:
Child of Fire: Serenya Solmar. Twin to Kael Solmar. Status: erased.
Her hands trembled.
"Twin?" she whispered. "I had a twin?"
Kael's jaw tensed. "You still do."
She looked up at him.
"You knew?"
"I suspected. The Queen destroyed most of the records years ago—but this one survived in the private vault."
Serenya reeled. "Why erase me?"
"She was afraid of what you'd become. Of what the prophecy said."
"What prophecy?"
Kael hesitated. Then reached for another scroll—this one bound in dragonhide. He unsealed it and read aloud:
'One born in fire, marked by both moon and flame,
Shall walk between the throne and ruin.
Two heirs—light and shadow—
One to rise, one to fall. The crown shall bleed before it bends.'
Serenya's heart pounded. "Two heirs. Light and shadow."
"Exactly," Kael said. "But the Queen feared you'd be the one to bring ruin. So she erased you. Sent you away. Hid your existence, even from me."
Serenya staggered back, fury blooming in her chest.
"She made me a ghost."
Kael nodded. "And now you've returned. Which means the prophecy is awake again."
From behind them, a shadow stirred.
"Indeed," said a voice like silk and winter.
They spun.
Kaelith emerged from the dark, arms folded, silver eyes unreadable.
"You're not the only one searching for truth," he said. "But be careful. Truth can burn louder than lies—and sometimes, it does more damage."
Serenya stepped forward. "Did you know about the prophecy?"
Kaelith's lips twitched. "I know many things. But some truths… must be earned."
Serenya's hand drifted to the dagger at her hip. "I'm done being a secret."
Kaelith met her gaze. "Then you'd better be ready to survive the spotlight."
A heavy silence fell.
Then Kael stepped between them. "We can't stay here. Someone's bound to notice the locks were breached."
As they turned to leave, Serenya took one last look at the scroll in her hands.
Her name—Serenya Solmar.
Twin.
Erased.
Returned.
Light or shadow?
She didn't know yet.
But fire always finds a way to burn its truth into the world.