The fires of Pyranthos never slept. Even at midnight, the palace city shimmered with crimson torches, flickering braziers, and an undercurrent of tension that sparked hotter than the flames themselves.
In the highest tower of the royal wing, Mira stood before a tall mirror, her reflection dancing with embers. The sigil of the House of Ashfall—an obsidian serpent wrapped in a ring of broken fire—lay on the velvet table behind her, proof that her enemies were not only real but waiting to strike.
"They should've stayed dead," she whispered.
From the shadows, her mother's voice answered quietly. "The Ashfall never truly die. They only wait in silence until someone listens again."
Mira turned. Queen Seraphina entered with an old scroll in her hands, wrapped in a cloth so faded it looked like dust made solid.
"What is that?" Mira asked.
Seraphina hesitated. "The lost prophecy of the Ember Truce. The part I never showed you."
Mira's breath caught. "You said it was sealed."
"I said it was hidden," Seraphina replied, laying the scroll open. "For your protection. But now, we're out of time."
The scroll unfurled. Flames shimmered over the ancient Pyranthian script, glowing faintly in the lamplight.
"When the Flameborn returns, marked by prophecy and blood, the child she bears shall awaken the Balance. But the fire cannot stand without the shadow; and the heir shall not rise unless the Ashfall returns."
Mira stared. "The Ashfall… are necessary?"
Seraphina's jaw clenched. "They are part of the prophecy. But they also want to twist it. Corrupt it. Turn the Balance into a new tyranny, with Mira as nothing but a sacrifice."
From the hallway, soft footsteps echoed.
Jaxon appeared, drenched from rain, a blade at his hip.
"They've made their first move," he said grimly. "Two of the elemental envoys from the Western Houses are dead. Poisoned. The symbols carved into their skin match the Ashfall crest."
Mira's blood ran cold.
Seraphina stood tall. "Then we strike before they spread deeper. We root them out—now."
But Mira shook her head. "No. That's what they want. We react, they vanish. We need to bait the trap. Let them think they're winning."
Jaxon's eyes narrowed. "And what bait do you plan to use?"
She looked at him. "Me."
---
Three Days Later: The Gathering of Flame
The Grand Hall of Pyranthos blazed with light and color. Fireglass chandeliers glittered above nobles and elemental lords from every known realm. It was Mira's official return to court—a symbolic reclaiming of her status. But beneath the gowns, cloaks, and jeweled smiles, secrets brewed like molten lava.
Jaxon stood close by her side, keeping his tone light but his eyes sharp.
"Half these people want to marry you. The other half want you dead."
Mira smirked. "And which half are you in?"
"I'm in the half that thinks they're all fools."
From across the hall, a new arrival approached: Prince Cassian of the Tempestri, heir to the Stormvault, dazzling in storm-blue velvet and lightning-etched armor. His smile was dangerously charming.
"Princess Mira," he said, kissing her hand with flair. "Rumor says you set the arena aflame and danced through it like a goddess. I came to see if the rumors were jealous enough."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "You came to flirt or to spy?"
"Both," Cassian replied with a wink. "I'm good at multitasking."
Behind him appeared another—Princess Elowyn of the Verdant Thorns, cloaked in green silk and guarded by thorns that whispered against her gown. "She's wasting time on smiles," Elowyn said, glancing coldly at Cassian. "We should be hunting traitors, not sipping wine."
"Ah, the garden speaks," Cassian said smoothly.
Elowyn rolled her eyes. "Try not to get struck by lightning when you overtalk again."
Mira couldn't help laughing. It was maddening, but somehow, the ridiculous love-hate between the elemental heirs made the room feel slightly less suffocating.
Until the lights flickered.
And the flames bent sideways.
A ripple of pressure swept through the hall like a sudden thunderclap.
Jaxon grabbed Mira's hand. "Something's wrong."
Before anyone could react, the doors slammed shut. A spiral of black smoke unfurled near the dais. When it cleared, a single figure stood in the center:
A girl. Younger than Mira. With dark crimson hair and ash-gray eyes. Cloaked in shadows. And behind her—an army of veiled warriors with sigils burned into their armor.
"I am Ashira of Ashfall," the girl said, voice ringing across the chamber like cold fire. "And I have come to claim my birthright."
---
Chaos erupted.
Guards rushed forward—but were blasted back by waves of shadowflame. One noble screamed. Lightning cracked from Cassian's hands, vines lashed from Elowyn's sleeves, and Jaxon drew his blade as Mira stepped forward.
Ashira's eyes locked onto her. "You don't even know who you are, do you?"
"I know enough," Mira said. "You're from a dead house with a death wish."
Ashira laughed. "No. I am the other half of the prophecy. And I am your cousin, Flameborn."
A hush swept the court.
Mira reeled. "That's not possible."
Seraphina stepped into view, her voice low and broken. "She's telling the truth."
Ashira nodded. "Our grandfather hid my bloodline. My mother was banished before you were born. But we share the same fire. The same power. And only one of us can carry the future."
She raised her hand. Shadowfire ignited behind her.
"So let the palace choose."
"One queen must fall."
---
Back in the royal war chamber, Mira's mind spun.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded of Seraphina.
"I thought she was dead," Seraphina replied, anguished. "Her mother betrayed our house and fled. We exiled them both."
"But you didn't kill the threat."
"No," Seraphina said. "And now... she's stronger than ever."
Jaxon paced. "She's been building an army underground. Sabotaging the council. Stealing relics. She doesn't want peace. She wants a takeover."
Cassian grinned grimly. "Well, at least she's not subtle."
Elowyn crossed her arms. "So what now, Flameborn?"
Mira stared at the war map, the sigils of fire and shadow facing one another.
"We give her what she wants," Mira said. "A battle."
Everyone stared.
"But not on her terms. On mine."
---
That night, in Mira's chambers, Kael stirred within her again.
::She is like you... but not.::
"She's my blood."
::But not your heart.::
"She wants the throne."
::And you want the truth. That's why you'll win.::
Mira smiled. "You always know the right thing to say."
::I am you, remember?::
She touched her stomach gently.
"Then stay with me, Kael. Because the fire we're walking into... will burn everything."
---