The Crescent Academy banquet hall shimmered with grandeur.
Crystalline chandeliers poured starlight across silk-draped tables. The finest wine from Aurelien's vineyards flowed. Music from spell-bound harps drifted through the chamber, laced with enchantments to calm tension. But beneath the veneer of elegance, the court of nobles simmered with unease.
Lucien Thorne had been invited.
No one had expected him to attend.
Yet there he stood—silent, dark-cloaked, posture regal in its defiance—at the banquet of the highbloods who had once spat on his name.
All conversation quieted when he walked in.
Whispers rippled like poison in wine.
"Why is he here?"
"Didn't he destroy Kaelen crest?"
"They say he knows how to rewrite lineage magic…"
Lucien ignored them all.
He moved with purpose, weaving between nobility, not as a guest, but as a storm among candles.
At the far end of the hall, the nobles of House Solmere sat in majesty—Seraphina among them.
Golden-haired and draped in moonsteel, she watched Lucien's approach with a calm, practiced grace. But her fingers, resting on her glass, tightened just slightly.
"Should we intercept him?" asked her younger cousin, Veir.No Seraphina murmured. "Let him come."And come he did.Lucien stopped before their table, his gaze steady. "Lady Seraphina. Might I have a word?"Gasps echoed around the room.A low murmur followed.She tilted her head, intrigued. "Here? Or somewhere less… flammable?"
Lucien gave the faintest smile. "Your choice. Either way, I doubt they'll forget this moment."
They walked onto the balcony.
The night was cool, and the twin moons hung like silent watchers above the academy towers. Below, magical lights flickered from practice grounds and skycourts.
"I assume this isn't about apologies," Seraphina said."It's about war," Lucien replied.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "That's a dangerous word.""It's the only one that fits."
Lucien looked toward the east, beyond the academy walls, beyond the mountains that separated kingdoms.
"You've read the old prophecies. You know what the Thorned Crest is."
Seraphina's voice lowered. "A catalyst. A heretic's brand. A seal meant to suppress an ancient magic."
Lucien turned to her. "It's breaking. The seal. And with it, so is everything they buried."
She studied him a moment longer, then asked, "Why tell me this?"
"Because you're the only noble who sees the game for what it truly is."
"And what game is that?"He leaned in.
> "The world isn't ruled by bloodlines, Seraphina. It's ruled by those who understand the system… and how to rewrite it."
Elsewhere in the academy, in the shadow-laced spire of House Nyvane, a different conversation was unfolding.
Virelia Nyvane, the infamous Spider of Crescent, watched Lucien and Seraphina from her scrying mirror.
A wicked smile danced across her lips.
"So the righteous lamb is intrigued by the wolf," she purred.
Beside her, a loyal servant—a mute rune-seer—scribbled a sigil in glowing ink.
Virelia's eyes gleamed.
"He's dangerous. Brilliant. And so very mine to ensnare."
With a flick of her hand, she conjured a letter, sealed with her house sigil—a blooming nightshade.
> "Invite him to the Web. Let's see how well the Thorn dances with poison."
Hours later, as Lucien returned to his quarters, a folded note lay on his desk.
He opened it carefully.
> "To the Thorn Who Burns the Chains,
Come to the Black Spire at midnight.
Come alone.
Let us discuss your future in this world of false kings."
Lucien's eyes darkened.
Three invitations had come tonight: one from the righteous flame, one from the ancient headmistress, and one from the vilest shadow in the academy.
He smiled faintly.
> "Let the nobles plot. Let the spiders spin. I'll burn them all if I must."
Far beyond the academy, in the dying lands of House Myrr, a rebel general named Askarin the Ashborn knelt before a crumbling altar.
The runes etched into his skin glowed faintly, pulsing in response to a whispering wind.
> "The Thorned One rises."
Askarin stood, eyes wild with purpose.
"The time has come," he growled. "To awaken the exiled bloodlines."
And the old world began to stir.