Deep beneath the foundations of Vireth's palace, where stone gave way to molten veins of ancient magic, a door sealed by both blood and fire cracked open for the first time in a century.
Inside, something old stirred—a presence forged in the first flames of the Solmar line. It pulsed once… then went still.
The Crown remembered its true heirs.
—
Above, in the outer court, Kael stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching flame soldiers practice with spears enchanted by fire runes. His mind wasn't on the drills—it was on Selira.
"A sister," he whispered to himself. "Another one."
His memories were vague—only flashes of his mother screaming, of midwives whispering behind silk curtains, and of the Queen's cold voice saying, "Only two survived."
Had that been a lie from the beginning?
"Prince Kael," a voice interrupted his thoughts. General Tharion, the head of the Flame Guard, approached with heavy boots and a clenched jaw. "The Queen has summoned you to the Council Chamber. Urgently."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "What's it about?"
"Your… movements," Tharion said carefully. "She believes you're hiding something."
Kael didn't deny it. "She's not wrong."
Tharion gave a gruff laugh. "Just try not to say that out loud in front of her."
—
The Council Chamber was colder than usual.
Queen Virelya sat on the obsidian throne, clad in shimmering flameweave robes. Her expression was unreadable. Around her, the seven High Councilors sat in silence.
Kael entered, unbothered.
"Mother," he greeted, voice clipped.
"You've been wandering," she said. "And lying."
Kael met her gaze evenly. "You raised me to survive lies."
"Don't be clever, boy," she snapped. "I smell shadowflame on you."
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
Kael didn't blink. "And I smell blood on your crown."
Virelya stood, slow and deliberate.
"The flame has rules, Kael. Order. Purity. The shadow is poison. You know what it means when its magic reawakens."
"Yes," Kael said softly. "It means your lies are cracking."
The Queen's eyes narrowed. "Where is Serenya?"
He smiled faintly. "Safe. For now."
"You are forcing my hand, Kael."
"No," he said. "You forced ours the moment you buried the truth. There are three of us, aren't there? Three born under the eclipse."
A dead silence fell.
And for the first time, Virelya looked afraid.
—
That night, in the moonlit ruins behind the palace, Serenya stood with Selira and Kael. The three of them together—finally.
"Now she knows," Kael said. "And she's rattled."
"She'll strike soon," Selira warned. "She won't allow the prophecy to unfold."
"What exactly is the prophecy?" Serenya asked. "The full version?"
Selira took a breath and spoke slowly:
"When three flames are born under shadowed sun,
One shall rise, one shall burn, one shall run.
Only the crowned by fire and shade
Shall break the throne the traitor made."
Kael exhaled. "One shall rise. One shall burn. One shall run."
Serenya looked between them. "So… which of us does what?"
"No one knows," Selira said. "But if we don't choose our own path, the prophecy will choose for us."
And somewhere, high in the obsidian tower, Virelya stood before her window, eyes fixed on the darkened sky. Her voice, low and venomous, echoed in the chamber:
"Three heirs cannot rule.
One must die."