Author's Note: This chapter was uploaded before Chapter 18 by mistake. Please read this one after the next chapter to avoid confusion.
Storm clouds rolled over the city of Ilyras, casting the golden towers of the capital in gray shadow. Rain whispered over cobbled streets, but inside the council chamber, the air was blistering with tension
Prince Auren stood before the throne, defiance in his voice.
> "You won't find her. You won't kill her."
Lady Seraphine's eyes narrowed like knives. "She is a threat to the Crown, to order. She must be extinguished before the people rise."
> "The people are already rising," Auren shot back. "Because they have nothing to lose—and she gave them hope."
Gasps rang through the chamber. The Council turned to the king, but the frail monarch said nothing. He hadn't spoken in days. Seraphine had ruled in his silence.
She stepped forward.
> "And what of your loyalty, Auren? Are you a prince of Ilyras, or a traitor in love with fire?"
Auren held her gaze.
> "Maybe both."
In the shadowed hills outside the capital, Elira stood on a ruined watchtower with Daren at her side.
Below them, a crowd gathered—farmers, smiths, maids, miners—each one cast out or broken by the highborn.
They stared at her, uncertain, until she raised the burning shard high.
> "They called us less. Powerless. But they were wrong."
The shard flared to life. Magic roared in her blood. Her voice rang out like thunder:
> "You have the strength to rise. You just needed a flame to light the way."
A woman stepped forward. "And if we're caught?"
> "Then we burn. But we burn together."
The crowd knelt.
The rebellion had begun.
--
That night, Seraphine stood in her private chamber, speaking to a shadow cloaked in illusion.
> "I want her alive," she murmured. "Not for justice—for leverage."
The shadow bowed. "What of the prince?"
Her eyes glittered.
> "Let him come. Love is the oldest trap."
She turned to the mirror, watching the image flicker—Elira's face, fierce with power.
> "You may be the last of the Flameborn… but I am the last to fear them."
---
Auren packed a satchel in secret.
His guard captain begged him to stay.
> "If you leave the palace now, they'll call it treason."
Auren looked back once at the castle that had raised him—its gold, its chains.
> "Then let them."
He slipped out beneath the cover of darkness.
Toward the rebellion. Toward her.
Toward the fire.