Two weeks later.
The sun never reached the cliffs of Virella's Reach. Mist clung to the jagged rocks like ghosts refusing to rest, and the waves below howled with the fury of drowned kings. Wind screamed through the high towers of the Watcher's Keep, an abandoned fortress carved into the cliffside—and now, the only place they could hide.
Auren sat on the narrow balcony, staring out at the sea.
He hadn't spoken in hours.
Not since he'd woken in the rubble, choking on dust and Seraphina's blood.
She had shielded him.
Again.
She always did.
And now—she hadn't woken since.
Inside the makeshift infirmary, Seraphina Duskfire lay pale and still. Bruised, broken. Her right arm was twisted in a splint, and three ribs had cracked under the collapse. But it was the head wound that scared them most—the one Nyra said might never let her wake again.
Auren hadn't left her side until Nyra dragged him out to breathe.
Now, with the ocean crashing below, he finally let himself unravel.
He thought he'd prepared for this. For setbacks, pain, even loss. He'd come back from death with the weight of destiny in his chest and plans layered within plans. But not this.
Not her.
He clenched his fists against the stone. "You said you'd never bow. That fire doesn't kneel."
A gust of wind nearly stole the words.
Inside, Nyra approached quietly. "She's stable. For now."
Auren didn't look at her.
"She shouldn't have been there," he said. "I should've gone alone."
Nyra leaned against the doorframe. "You would've died alone. You both would've."
"Maybe I was meant to."
She was silent for a moment. Then:
"Don't do this."
He finally turned to face her.
"You know what the healers said. If she doesn't wake in another week—"
"She will," he snapped.
Nyra's gaze softened. "And if she doesn't?"
He didn't answer.
She stepped closer. "You think she'd want you to fall apart? To lose everything you've built?"
His silence gave her the answer.
"She trusted you with more than a kingdom, Auren. Don't waste it mourning someone who isn't gone yet."
Then she dropped something in his lap—a scroll, sealed in red wax.
"This came while you were inside. From the Ashen Council."
Auren stared at the seal. He hadn't heard from the Ashen Council in months—not since they'd whispered of a hidden alliance against the Tribunal. If they were resurfacing now, it meant something had shifted.
He broke the seal.
The message was short. Cold.
The tides turn. The south bleeds. The Blood King moves.
If you want her to live, meet us at dusk. The Council is ready to act.
Bring the girl.
His eyes snapped up.
"The girl?"
Nyra shrugged. "We think they mean Seraphina."
"No," Auren said. "They mean someone else."
Later – Below the Keep
The girl in question was twelve years old, with fire in her veins and steel in her eyes. Her name was Thalia Emberfall—Seraphina's cousin by blood, though the child had never known royalty. Her village had burned in one of the Tribunal's purges, and Auren had found her hurling stones at a Tribunal scout with a broken arm and bloodied lip.
Now, she stood before him with her arms crossed.
"I'm not afraid of secret councils," she said. "I'm afraid of you lying to me."
Auren knelt, eye level.
"I never lied to you, Thalia. I just didn't tell you everything."
She snorted. "That's worse."
Nyra smirked nearby. "Smart kid."
Auren sighed. "They want you because you have something the Tribunal fears."
"Let me guess—'destiny.'" Thalia rolled her eyes. "You adults love that word."
"No," Auren said, voice quiet. "You have fire-sight. I saw it that night in the woods."
She stilled.
The air seemed to shift.
"Fire-sight is extinct," she whispered. "Mama said it was a story."
"Your mother was protecting you. It's not a story."
Auren stood. "And it's the one thing that might save Seraphina."
Thalia narrowed her eyes. "Then let's go. I'm tired of hiding."
That Night – The Council's Hollow
The Ashen Council met in an underground temple beneath the ruined city of Veylin—a place forgotten by most maps. Seven figures in gray robes sat in a circle, each masked, each glowing faintly with ancient magic. At the center stood a pyre that did not burn.
Auren entered with Thalia at his side, cloak wrapped tightly against the damp.
One of the council members rose. "We expected her."
Auren's jaw tightened. "She's injured."
Another voice—a woman's—spoke. "Then this one must take her place."
Thalia stepped forward. "What do you want from me?"
"You carry the Sight," the woman said. "You can touch the thread between life and death. You can awaken the flame in those who still linger."
Auren blinked. "You mean she can bring Seraphina back?"
"No. We mean she can call her back."
The pyre flared suddenly—white and blue and ancient gold.
The woman stepped aside. "But she must be willing. And she must go alone."
Thalia looked at Auren. "I don't understand."
He knelt again. "You'll find her in a place of memory. Of pain. You have to reach her—pull her back with something real. Something that matters."
Thalia nodded once. Then stepped into the flame.
And vanished.
Elsewhere – Between Worlds
Seraphina floated in a sea of black.
No sky. No sound. No time.
Only fire. Dim. Flickering. Her own.
She saw flashes. A throne made of cinders. A dagger soaked in blood. Her mother's face. Auren's hands, covered in ink.
Then—footsteps.
Bare feet.
A child's voice.
"Seraphina."
She turned.
Thalia stood before her, hands glowing with soft flame.
"You're not real," Seraphina said.
"I am. I came to bring you back."
"I don't want to go back. I failed."
Thalia stepped forward, undeterred.
"You didn't fail. You fought. You made them run."
Seraphina's voice cracked. "I couldn't stop him."
"You don't have to stop him alone."
Silence.
Then Seraphina dropped to her knees, tears finally falling.
"I'm so tired."
Thalia reached out. Took her hand.
"You can rest later. Right now, we need you. He needs you."
The blackness cracked.
Light bled through.
And then—Seraphina gasped.
Back at the Keep
Her eyes snapped open.
Auren nearly dropped the glass of water in his hand.
"Seraphina?"
She blinked. Groggy. Pale. But alive.
And she smiled weakly. "You look worse than I feel."
He choked a laugh. Pressed his forehead to hers.
"You came back."
Her hand touched his cheek. "You called me."
He pulled her close, held her tight.
But just as warmth settled between them, Nyra burst through the door.
"You need to see this."
Auren stood, heart already racing.
Nyra threw open the map scroll.
"The Blood King moved. Three cities fell in a day. And the last messenger said something else—"
"What?" Auren asked.
Nyra looked at Seraphina, then back at him.
"They've named you both in the prophecy."
Auren stiffened.
"Which prophecy?"
"The final one," Nyra said. "The one no one dared to believe."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"When the flame chooses the mind, and the mind chooses war—
The world shall burn, and from the ash… a crown will rise."