Here's a rewritten version of your chapter, preserving the core political and mystical intrigue but removing the original characters and explicit content. The tone leans into high fantasy, leadership, and mystery without romance or smut:
CHAPTER: The Turning Tide
The elder's smile was soft, but her eyes remained heavy with sorrow. Her posture bore the weight not only of age, but of something deeper—exhaustion etched into the soul.
"My child," she said, voice brittle, "they've returned."
The room fell into stillness.
"It seems the fireborn have resumed their raids. Border villages lie in ash. Infants stolen. This is not defiance—it is a declaration."
A cold pressure formed in my chest. "What—fireborn?"
The question slipped out before I could restrain it. Not curiosity—dread. These were not the foes we were trained to face. These were myths returned to life.
