Leora ran.
Not out of fear, but instinct. The figure in the woods had vanished the moment she turned, but something in the air still buzzed—like a vibration just beyond sound. Her feet crunched over moss and leaves, and every breath she drew felt heavier than the last.
The trees grew closer together here, branches like skeletal arms blocking the moonlight. She moved swiftly, eyes adjusting, ears sharp. Her dagger remained in her hand, though part of her knew that if it came down to it, steel wouldn't protect her from the kind of being that could vanish without sound.
She stopped near a broken stone pillar, half-swallowed by vines. Its surface bore faint symbols—stars, flames, circles intersecting like constellations. The same pattern that had begun to appear in her dreams. Her fingers traced the carvings, and her skin tingled at the touch.
Something brushed past her shoulder. She spun, heart racing. No one.
Then the voice came.
"You're bleeding starlight."
She whirled around, dagger raised. A man stood behind her now, cloaked in deep green, his face hidden beneath a hood. But unlike the Order's robes, his were rough, wild. Etched with dirt, leaves, and shadow. His presence was quiet. But not empty.
He didn't move.
Leora didn't lower her blade. "Who are you?"
"A friend," he said. "If you believe in such things."
"People who appear in the forest without warning usually don't fall into that category."
"I watched your flare," he said, tilting his head. "The magic that burst from you last night. You're lucky the Order didn't arrive first."
Her grip tightened. "You were watching me?"
"Not at first. But once the sky burned and the birds scattered in silence… yes. I came looking."
"For what?"
He stepped forward, slowly. "For the one who shattered the seal."
Leora froze.
"I didn't mean to," she said quickly. "I didn't even know it existed."
"That's the problem," the man said. "You bear the mark, but not the knowledge. That kind of power… can tear the world in half."
His tone wasn't cruel. Just honest. That scared her more.
"Then teach me," she said. "You seem to know what's happening. Help me control it."
He paused for a long moment, as if measuring her.
"I can lead you to someone who might," he said at last. "But you won't like what you learn."
"Try me."
The man turned, cloak rustling, and began walking deeper into the trees.
She hesitated only a second before following.
They traveled in silence. The woods changed the farther they went—older, darker, as if untouched by the outside world. Roots jutted from the earth like ancient bones, and strange glowing fungi pulsed faintly in the undergrowth. Leora had never seen this part of the forest before, though she'd lived near its edge her whole life.
Eventually, the trees thinned into a hollowed glade. At its center stood a crumbling archway of black stone, leaning like a crooked doorway into nothing. Beneath it, a woman knelt by a shallow pool, her hair white as snow, her skin dusted with freckles like stars.
She looked up before they spoke.
"Bring her," the woman said. Her voice echoed—not loudly, but as if it came from a deeper place than sound.
The man gestured. "This is the Starborn," he said. "The one who bears two marks."
The woman stood slowly and approached Leora. Her eyes were silver and piercing, and they did not blink.
Leora forced herself to meet them. "You know what I am?"
The woman tilted her head. "No. But I know what you might become."
She stepped closer, raising one hand. "Show me."
Leora's instinct told her to move, to pull away, but she didn't. The woman's fingers brushed against her collarbone, just where the first mark burned. The sigil lit instantly.
Then her palm.
The second mark glowed brighter, its lines shifting slightly—almost… alive.
The woman's eyes narrowed. "The Flame and the Void. One born from starlight. One awakened from darkness. You are a convergence."
"I don't understand."
"You're not meant to," she said. "Not yet."
Leora stepped back, frustrated. "Then help me! If there's something inside me—something dangerous—I need to know how to control it before it controls me."
The woman watched her in silence, then pointed to the pool.
"Look."
Leora stepped forward and peered into the water.
For a moment, she saw only her reflection.
Then her face rippled, shifted, became something else.
A burning sky. A city in ruins. Ash falling like snow. Her own silhouette standing at the center—eyes burning gold, hands wreathed in fire, the world around her unraveling like threads from a dying star.
She gasped and stumbled back.
"That's not—"
"That is one path," the woman said calmly. "Not the only one. But a possible future."
Tears pricked the corners of Leora's eyes. "I don't want to become that."
"Then you must choose differently."
Leora looked up. "How? I don't even know what this is."
The woman finally nodded.
"Then it's time you learned."
She turned toward the archway. As she passed through it, the air shimmered—and changed. A passage opened in the earth beneath it. Steps of stone led downward into darkness.
The man in green gestured for Leora to follow.
With her heart pounding in her chest, she stepped through the arch.
The world changed.
The light above dimmed, and a heavy silence wrapped around her like a shroud. The staircase spiraled downward, walls covered in carvings—some ancient, some moving. Eyes blinked from the stone. Stars shifted above archways. She couldn't tell if it was magic or madness.
At the bottom, a chamber waited. Wide, domed, and breathing.
Yes—breathing.
The very walls seemed alive, pulsing gently with a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
In the center stood a pedestal. Upon it, an orb of light floated, flickering like a trapped star. As Leora stepped closer, her marks flared again, resonating with the light.
"It's reacting to me."
"It always does," the woman said, appearing behind her. "This is a shard of the First Flame. One of the seven that sealed the heavens after the collapse."
"Collapse of what?"
"The old world. The age of fire and sky. Your marks are not just a blessing, Leora. They're a beacon. When they awoke, everything else started to wake up too."
She paused.
"And not all of it is friendly."
Leora stared at the orb. "What happens if I touch it?"
The woman gave a thin smile. "Then your real training begins."
Leora hesitated for only a moment.
Then she reached out—and touched the light.
It seared through her like lightning.
Visions crashed into her mind—armies of shadow, beasts made of flame, stars falling like arrows, voices screaming in languages lost to time. She saw the tree from the ruins again, but it was burning, its roots turning to ash.
And then she saw herself.
Older. Stronger. Radiant with power.
Alone.
The light vanished.
She fell to her knees, gasping, her skin steaming.
When she looked up, the woman knelt beside her, expression unreadable.
"You've seen it now," she said. "The fire. The truth. The burden."
"I saw myself destroying everything," Leora whispered.
"And yet, you survived the vision. That's rare."
The man in green stepped forward. "Which means?"
"She might be strong enough."
"To do what?"
The woman stood.
"To change fate."
The ground rumbled beneath them.
Above, in the forest they had left behind, the sky cracked with thunder. And far away, the Order's tower glowed bright blue—a beacon.
Leora stood, legs shaking but steady.
"What was that?"
The woman's silver eyes gleamed.
"Your presence has been noticed."
And far above, in the tower of the Order, a voice muttered to itself, gazing into the mirror once more.
"She has touched the flame."
And someone else, even older, whispered in a forgotten tongue, watching from far beyond the stars.
"She has begun."
To be continued…