The streets of Ilyras echoed with the sound of marching boots. In every village square, proclamations were nailed to posts and gates—signed by the King's seal and bearing Lady Seraphine's cruel pen.
> "The girl known as Elira of Emberlight is hereby declared an enemy of the Crown. A sorceress. A traitor. Her magic is forbidden. Her presence is a curse."
> "All who aid her will be punished by death."
Gasps rose from crowds of villagers. Some stared at the name in horror. Others in doubt. And a few… in quiet, trembling hope.
In the palace, Lady Seraphine stood before the court, robed in silks dark as blood.
> "We have warned them," she said. "Now let the world see the cost of rebellion."
The King gave no reply—his illness had left him a silent shadow in his own throne.
But Seraphine ruled in his stead now. And the war she had long feared was finally beginning.
---
In the rebel camp, Elira gripped the proclamation Garran had stolen from a village wall.
> "Enemy of the Crown," she murmured.
> "You wear it well," Auren said softly, though his eyes burned with rage.
The other rebels gathered around, waiting for her next command. She was no longer just a runaway orphan. She was their flamebearer. Their voice.
> "They've declared war," Elira said, folding the parchment. "So we answer."
Garran frowned. "But how? They have armies. Magic-hunters. Inquisitors."
> "Then we stop hiding," she said. "We give the people something to believe in again."
> "Like what?"
Elira stood, her voice clear and strong.
> "We take back one of their cities. We free it in fire and truth. And we show the kingdom the Crown no longer owns our fear."
Auren stepped beside her.
> "Then we start with Kirevale," he said. "It's small, but strategic. And close."
Elira nodded.
> "Gather those willing. By the next moonrise… we march."
---
Far away, in a hidden chamber beneath the palace, the obsidian mirror pulsed.
Lady Seraphine stood before it, whispering ancient words into the glass. Visions flickered across the surface—fire, rebellion, a girl crowned in flames.
But then… something unexpected.
The mirror flashed, revealing two thrones—one burning, one in shadow. And in between them stood Elira and Auren, their hands entwined.
Seraphine hissed and turned away, her voice tight with fury.
> "Let them rise," she said. "So I can be the one to watch them fall