Ariya had always thought the world would give her time
Time to grow stronger.
Time to find answers.
Time to figure out who she really was
But the world didn't wait
The village of Windmere burned behind her.
Ariya stood frozen at the edge of the trees, chest rising and falling, eyes wide as the flames devoured everything she'd ever known. The sky was thick with smoke, glowing red and gray like a storm of fireclouds. She could still hear the distant clang of swords, the shouts of soldiers, the crackle of her uncle's forge going up in sparks.
And his last words
"Take it, Ariya. Run, now—don't look back."
He had pushed a silver ring into her hand, one she'd never seen before. Its surface was warm from his grip. Her fingers curled around it now, still stained with soot and blood.
She had run. Like he told her. Even when she wanted to stay. Even when the guilt clawed at her chest.
She ran because she had to live. She wasn't done yet.
Now, as she leaned against a tree deep in the woods, far from the burning rooftops, her legs trembling from hours of running, Ariya felt more alone than ever.
She wasn't a warrior. Not really. Just a girl who knew how to swing a hammer and sharpen blades in the forge. But the way the king's men had attacked—so fast, so ruthless—she couldn't pretend anymore.
Something was wrong. Something bigger than Windmere.
And she was part of it
She stared down at the ring in her palm.
Silver, old, marked with the faint image of a crown and a bird—no, not just a bird. A phoenix.
Her uncle had never worn it. He'd never even spoken of it. But now she knew what it meant.
Or she thought she did.
She had read stories, years ago, in scraps of paper buried in the healer's house. About a lost bloodline. Warrior queens. A rebellion long buried under the king's rule. Symbols were all that remained.
Like this one.
A branch cracked behind her.
Ariya jumped to her feet, heart pounding, dagger in hand. She turned.
But it wasn't a soldier.
It was a boy. Maybe her age. Dirty, limping, a bow slung over his back. He raised both hands slowly.
"I'm not with them," he said. His voice was hoarse, tired. "But if you don't hide that ring, you won't last the night."
Ariya didn't move.
"Why?" she asked.
He looked at her, like he already knew something she didn't.
"Because it means you're not just anyone. And the king doesn't like people who aren't just anyone."