"Not all who run are cowards. Some are storms waiting to break."
---
The city burned behind them.
Kael and Sera moved like shadows through the alleys of Virelia's underbelly, slipping past crumbling walls and fallen statues. Fires cast long, flickering shadows across the cobblestones, and the air was thick with smoke, screams, and the strange, quiet hum of falling stars.
"Where are we going?" Kael asked, struggling to keep up. The glowing lines on his arms pulsed with every heartbeat.
"Out," Sera said. "And down."
They stopped at a rusted gate tucked behind a collapsed bakery. She ran her fingers over a carved sigil on the wall—a symbol Kael had seen in the dream: a spiral of flame inside an eye. The stone creaked. The wall split down the middle, revealing stairs descending into blackness.
"Quickly," she urged, already moving down.
Kael hesitated only a moment before following.
---
Below Virelia
The tunnels were old—far older than the city above. Walls of ancient stone hummed faintly with magic. Runes, long dead, flickered to life as Kael passed, casting pale blue light that danced along the walls.
He caught glimpses of strange carvings: dragons without wings, gods without faces, and a crown made of thorns and fire.
"These tunnels were built during the Age of Shattering," Sera whispered. "When the old gods still walked."
Kael touched the wall. "Why are you helping me?"
Sera paused. "Because once... someone helped me. And because the Crownless need you."
"The Crownless?"
"The ones who remember. The ones who still believe the gods aren't dead—just buried."
They walked in silence until they reached a circular chamber deep below the surface. A large brass map lay embedded in the floor, covered in dust. It showed the empire as it had once been: vast, whole, and full of names Kael didn't recognize.
Sera dropped her satchel. "Rest. Eat. We leave for the outer provinces at dawn."
Kael sat, legs shaking. "What's happening to me?"
She knelt beside him, brushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead. "The Starfall changed more than the sky. It's awakening bloodlines, magic, and memories that were meant to stay forgotten."
"I saw fire. I felt it speak."
"You're marked by something ancient. Maybe Aruun himself."
Kael swallowed hard. "I don't want to be a weapon."
"Too late," she said softly. "Now the only question is—whose hands you end up in."
---
Above Ground
Far above, in the blackened halls of the ruined palace, a man in silver robes stood alone before a shattered throne. His eyes burned gold, and his hands dripped with starlight.
The Hollow Regent.
He bent down, touching the ashes where King Valorin once sat. He lifted a fragment of scorched bone and smiled.
"They've begun," he whispered.
Behind him, cloaked figures knelt. "Shall we hunt the marked?"
The Hollow Regent turned to the night sky, where one star still fell—slowly, deliberately—toward the eastern mountains.
"Find the boy," he said. "Bring him to me alive. The gods may be returning, but this time…" He crushed the bone to powder. "We decide who wears the flame."