Morning in Vireth dawned with deceptive peace—golden skies, cool air, and servants bustling like nothing had changed. But within the throne halls, a storm gathered.
Queen Virelya stood before the Mirror of the Crowned, an ancient relic said to reflect not the face, but the soul of the one who looked into it.
She stared, unmoving.
What she saw there wasn't her regal form. Not the flawless hair, not the eternal youth granted by her bloodline.
No—she saw cracks. Shadows curling beneath her eyes. The whisper of prophecy breathing on her neck like frost.
The mark had awakened.
Serenya is alive. The erased child has returned.
A handmaiden approached cautiously. "Your Majesty… the council awaits."
"Let them wait," she replied coldly, voice like glass. "The dead return when buried improperly. I will fix the burial."
The handmaiden bowed and fled.
Virelya turned, sweeping through the throne room with her crimson cloak trailing behind like liquid fire.
—
Meanwhile, deep in the under-castle tunnels, Serenya paced the narrow cistern chamber, Selira sitting across from her, arms wrapped around her knees.
"You still haven't told me what that black fire was," Serenya said.
Selira didn't answer right away.
Finally, she said, "It's not Solmar flame. It's older. Wild. From the Hollow Depths. I wasn't just hidden, Serenya—I was trained by the old bloodline. The side our Queen tried to erase from the records entirely."
"You mean the Nightflame dynasty," Serenya whispered.
Selira nodded. "The flame before Solmar. Before the 'crown of light.' They believed in balance. Flame and shadow. But Virelya outlawed them. Had their temples burned. My mentor died protecting me."
Serenya looked down at her hands. "We were raised to be weapons for her. Even Kael…"
"But you broke that," Selira said. "When you awakened your mark, it sent a signal to all the old flame lines. That's how I found you."
Serenya exhaled slowly. "I need to speak to Kael. We can't hide anymore."
"Then be careful," Selira warned. "Virelya wears the crown, but she doesn't hold all the power. Not anymore."
—
In the upper court, Kael was already moving.
He stood before the War Chamber's grand map, eyes scanning the movements of court alliances. Reports had come in—quiet whispers of flames breaking out near the old altar. Strange burn patterns. Ashen bodies.
"Something happened," said Kaelith, appearing at his side. "And you weren't there."
Kael didn't flinch. "She told me not to follow."
Kaelith smirked. "And you obeyed her?"
"I trusted her."
Kaelith chuckled darkly. "Then you'd better keep trusting fast, brother. Because the Queen just summoned the Ashen Circle."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "That hasn't happened in decades."
"It means she's preparing for war. Quietly. And she suspects one of us is already a traitor."
Kael's voice turned cold. "Maybe she should be looking in the mirror."
—
Later that night, Serenya slipped into the garden again under Kael's protection, cloaked and quiet. He met her beneath the firelilies.
"You're late," he murmured.
"I was nearly incinerated. Forgive the delay."
They stared at each other for a moment—tension and questions swimming between them.
"I met her," she said. "The third. Our sister."
Kael stiffened. "What?"
"She's alive. Her name is Selira. She uses shadowflame, Kael. She's stronger than either of us—and she's been hunted her whole life."
Kael turned away, running a hand through his silver hair.
"Triplets. That changes everything."
"Not everything," Serenya replied. "Just the end of the prophecy."
Kael's jaw tightened. "The Queen will not allow three heirs. She'll move fast."
"Then we move faster," Serenya said. "And we stop hiding."
From the shadows, a silent figure watched them both—eyes glowing faintly.
Kaelith turned away, whispering into a crystal shard:
"The three are united. The Queen will not be pleased."
And far beneath the castle, in the sealed chamber where the first Solmar crown had been forged, an ancient fire pulsed for the first time in centuries.
It was awakening.