The word echoed in Serenya's mind like thunder.
"Sister."
The woman standing before her—same eyes, same fire in her voice—was not Kael. Not a mirror. Not a shadow.
She was something… else.
Serenya stepped back slowly, hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. "Explain. Now."
The woman didn't flinch. "My name is Selira. We were born under the same eclipse. You were taken. I was hidden."
Serenya's voice was low. "You expect me to believe I have a second twin?"
"No," Selira replied. "Not a twin. A triplet."
The words hit like a slap. Triplet. Three born under one moon. The prophecy's riddle unraveled a thread more.
"Two heirs—light and shadow…"
Serenya stared. "Why now? Why reveal yourself now?"
"Because you triggered the mark," Selira said. "And now they're watching all of us. The Crown. The Flame Whisperers. Even the Hollow Court."
Serenya's blood went cold. "The Hollow Court is real?"
"Yes. And they've been waiting for the Flameborn to rise." Selira looked around. "I was sent to warn you. Someone is already hunting us—and they're using the Queen's name."
"You're saying Virelya is working with the Hollow Court?"
Selira gave a bitter smile. "No. I'm saying she's their puppet."
Serenya shook her head. "That makes no sense. She's powerful—ruthless, even. She's always been in control."
"Exactly," Selira said. "That's what they want everyone to believe."
A sudden heat cracked the air—a flame rune detonated near the altar.
They both dove apart as a searing bolt of fire shot down, narrowly missing Selira's shoulder. Shadows moved in the trees. More flame glyphs lit, forming a circle.
"They found us!" Selira shouted. "Move!"
Serenya didn't hesitate. She summoned the flame inside her, her hands lighting with flickering gold. Together, she and Selira moved back to back, facing the approaching attackers—cloaked figures in crimson masks, wielding staffs crackling with unnatural fire.
"Who are they?" Serenya demanded.
"The Ashen Order," Selira growled. "Flame assassins bound to the Hollow Court. They cleanse threats."
"I'm getting tired of people calling me a threat," Serenya snapped—and unleashed a wave of flame that burst outward like a wildfire.
The Ashen attackers scattered. Selira spun with deadly grace, throwing two obsidian daggers into the nearest mask. It shattered into flame and smoke.
More moved in—silent, relentless.
One flanked Serenya and lunged—but she turned his staff to molten slag with a touch. Another reached for her throat—and burst into fire when her mark pulsed bright.
Beside her, Selira chanted a foreign spell—and from her palm, black fire erupted, swallowing three masked figures at once. Not natural fire. Something older.
Serenya turned, stunned. "What was that?"
Selira didn't answer. Her expression was tight, jaw clenched.
"We need to go," she said. "Now."
They ran, fire and smoke behind them, through the hidden tunnels that led out of the altar ruins and into the stonework beneath the palace.
By the time they reached the safety of a forgotten cistern, both were burned, bruised, and breathing hard.
Selira slumped against the wall. "This was just a warning. Next time, they won't come with masks."
Serenya looked at her, mind spinning.
"If you're telling the truth… there's more than just blood between us."
Selira nodded. "There's a war. And you, me, and Kael—we're not just heirs to a throne."
She looked up, eyes burning like coals.
"We're the last keys to something much bigger than Vireth."