The sky above Vireth had shifted—clouds thickened unnaturally, cloaking the sun like a veil of mourning. The palace, once vibrant with flame banners, now stood like a fortress waiting for siege.
In a forgotten chamber beneath the eastern wing, once used by high priests of Solmar flame, the three heirs met in secret.
Serenya placed a hand on the ancient altar, its surface etched with runes that shimmered under her touch.
"This place feels… alive," she murmured.
Selira nodded. "It remembers us. All of us."
Kael stood back, arms crossed, his usual calm now laced with tension. "We need to act. Virelya won't hesitate. The Ashen Circle will move against us soon."
"I agree," Selira said. "Which is why we must form the Blood Oath."
Serenya frowned. "What is that?"
Selira stepped forward and placed a silver dagger on the altar. Its blade flickered with both red and black flame. "An ancient pact. Older than the Solmar crown. If we swear it, our fates are bound—no betrayal, no lies. If one falls, the others feel it."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a curse."
"It's a bond," Selira replied. "But once done, it cannot be undone."
Serenya stared at the dagger. The weight of legacy, prophecy, and blood was heavy in the chamber.
"Do we trust each other enough for this?" she asked.
Kael hesitated.
Selira didn't. "We don't have the luxury of doubt. Not anymore."
After a long pause, Kael stepped forward. "Then let's bind it. Before anything else can break us."
They each pricked their palms with the dagger, crimson and ember-black blood dripping onto the altar's runes. The stone glowed fiercely, runes igniting in a spiral of light that swirled around them.
Serenya felt it immediately—a sudden tightening in her chest, a flame threading into her very soul. It wasn't painful, but it was binding. Ancient. Permanent.
"By flame and shadow, by oath and blood…
We rise together, or fall as one."
The words came unbidden from their lips, as if the altar spoke through them.
Then silence.
The glow faded—but something had changed. In the corner of her mind, Serenya felt the presence of her siblings. Their pain. Their breath. Their intent.
They were now one fire, three flames.
—
Meanwhile, in the upper palace, Queen Virelya stood in her private sanctum with a figure cloaked in voidsilk.
"You felt it," she said.
The figure nodded. "They've taken the Oath. All three."
The Queen's jaw tightened. "Then we move to Phase Two. Send the whisper assassins. Target Kael first. Serenya will crack once she loses him."
"And the third?"
Virelya's eyes narrowed. "Selira is a mistake I should have burned as a child. I won't repeat the error."
The figure bowed and disappeared into shadow.
—
Back in the altar chamber, Kael gripped the edge of the stone, his knuckles white.
"That bond… it means if one of us dies…"
"The others will feel it," Selira finished quietly. "It will echo through us like fire through dry leaves."
Serenya stood tall. "Then we protect each other. No matter what."
For a moment, the silence between them wasn't tense—it was sacred.
But far away, a dagger was already being unsheathed in the dark.
And the Blood Oath had made them visible—to everything.