The east wing of the palace was sealed to everyone but royal scholars.
At least, that was the lie.
Elira moved through the marble halls like a whisper, her slippers soft against the floor, her red cloak hidden beneath a drape of gray. Midnight cloaked the windows. The moon carved pale shapes into the stone, lighting her way like a secret pact between the stars and her shadow.
She clutched the note in her hand.
The Library of Bones. Midnight. Come alone.
She found the door by accident — or fate.
A silver wolf carved into the wall blinked in the moonlight, revealing a crack in the stone just behind its eye. When she pressed it, the wall trembled.
A hidden passage opened with a low hiss, like breath through old teeth.
The Library wasn't filled with books. Not like she expected.
It was filled with bones.
Skulls lined the walls like forgotten portraits. Spines bound ancient scrolls. Candles dripped wax onto femurs carved with runes. The air was thick with dust and magic, and something older — grief.
But in the center of it all sat a boy.
Not a prince. Not a guard. A servant, maybe — no older than Elira, with pale skin and dark eyes too large for his narrow face. He held a scroll in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other.
> "You came," he said, as if unsurprised.
> "Who are you?" Elira asked.
He smiled faintly. "A mistake that survived."
He beckoned her closer. On the floor at his feet was a symbol — a crown with a flame burning through it. She had seen it once, in the ruins near the orphanage. It was the mark of the First Firebearers — ancient magic users believed to be extinct.
> "You have the fire," he whispered. "But not the curse. Not yet."
Elira's mouth dried.
> "What do you mean?"
The boy looked at her with something like pity.
> "The other girls — the ones before you — were chosen because they had power. But none of them were strong enough to survive him."
> "Prince Auren?" she asked. "He didn't hurt them…"
> "No," the boy said. "He loved them. And that's what killed them."
---
The candlelight dimmed. The bones seemed to lean in, listening.
The boy handed her a scroll bound in black ribbon.
> "This is the original prophecy. The one the king tried to erase."
Elira unrolled it slowly. Her breath caught at the words:
> "When flame marries crown,
the kingdom shall drown.
She who bears fire shall either burn the throne,
or bind her soul to it — and die."
A sudden chill swept the room.
The boy stood abruptly.
> "They'll come for you soon. The crown watches everything."
> "Then why help me?" she whispered.
He looked back once, sorrow in his eyes.
> "Because I have nothing left to lose."
And then he vanished into the darkness between shelves, leaving her alone with the truth:
She wasn't just the last girl.
She was the only one still alive.