After the war ended , it has been three months after the binding ceremony took place...
Many things change in the course of this time ...
Who knows what will happen next?
The Temple of Pyranthos stood silent beneath the twilight, bathed in hues of ruby and gold. Its burning spires, carved from obsidian veined with molten crystal, flickered against the skies like tongues of eternal flame. The very walls pulsed with ancient heat, alive with whispers of ancestors and gods. This was the sacred seat of the Fire Dynasty—the Pyranthos bloodline—and its rightful heir, Princess Mira, carried a flame deeper and more volatile than any who came before.
But within her now stirred something even older, even stronger.
Kael.
Unborn. Divine.
His essence shimmered beneath her skin, threads of firelight curling through her veins. Mira was three months into her sacred pregnancy, and already the balance of elemental magic was trembling across realms. Elders murmured prophecies; the Divine Council stirred restlessly in their astral thrones; and somewhere in the shadows of Pyranthos, dissent began to take form.
Inside the palace, Mira sat cross-legged before the ancestral flame, eyes closed, as soft murmurs passed between her and the soul flickering within.
"You're awake again, little one," Mira whispered aloud, her voice feathered with awe. "You always wake when the stars change position."
There was no reply—not in words. But a thrum pulsed inside her, warm, aware, and amused.
"Why do I feel like you're laughing at me?" she asked, brushing her stomach gently. A faint shimmer pulsed across her fingertips like a spark meeting its twin.
"You're... protective," she murmured, more to herself than to Kael. "And powerful. Too powerful, perhaps. Even for them."
Across the room, a shadow shifted. Jaxon—Prince of Thalor, heir of the Water Dynasty—leaned quietly against the archway. His normally calm expression was knotted with worry.
"Mira," he said softly. "Your flame just breached the warding circle again. One of the high priestesses nearly passed out from the heat spike."
She opened her eyes slowly, glowing faintly with the firelight inherited from generations of Pyranthos queens.
"Tell them not to fear me," she said, standing. "Or my son. He only stretches. The world is... too tight for him."
Jaxon crossed the room in three long strides. "Mira, the Council has called again. They want proof you're still in control. If Kael's powers ripple into the Inbetween while he's still forming, it could tear the Veil open."
Mira frowned. "You mean they want to see if I've lost control. Again."
He took her hands. "No. They want to know if your heart still beats as Mira, not only Valeria."
She jerked her hands back. "I am both. Always have been. And if they cannot accept that, then perhaps they are not fit to sit in judgment of what's coming."
The fire behind her blazed, casting a tall silhouette around her form—a goddess crowned in flame.
Jaxon stepped back, uncertain whether to kneel or argue.
---
Meanwhile, in the outer halls of the Pyranthos palace, the whispers had begun to spread. Servants exchanged glances. Noblewomen bit back remarks. And at the training grounds, Mira's former suitor Aryan sparred with rage masked as discipline.
A fellow cadet nudged him. "She doesn't even speak to you now, does she?"
Aryan spun, sword slashing air. "She speaks only flame now. That water prince—he poisoned her."
"You were her first love, weren't you?" the cadet asked, eyebrows raised.
Aryan's face darkened. "I was her destined match. Until that exile of the sea wormed into her dreams."
Back within her private sanctum, Mira turned toward the massive map of the elemental territories. The continents glowed faintly with power—red for Pyranthos, blue for Thalor, green for Aerwyn, and silver-gray for Terrakin.
"Kael, can you feel it too?" she whispered. "The Council is frightened. And frightened gods are always dangerous."
A pulse beneath her palm.
"We may not be safe here anymore. Not in Pyranthos. Not even with my blood."
Jaxon entered again, this time bearing a scroll marked with the sigil of the Divine Council.
"They've summoned us," he said, his voice heavy.
Mira didn't flinch. "Then let them see. Let them hear. Let them burn."
And somewhere deep within her—Kael stirred, ready.