Part I: A Morning of Memories
The morning sun spilled gently through the tall arched windows of the guest wing, casting a golden glow over the velvet cushions and stone walls. The air was still and soft, as if the entire Empire was holding its breath.
Sylvara stirred awake, wrapped in a warm blanket on the cushioned floor. Her head had fallen against Kaelen's shoulder sometime during the night. On her other side, Kaida was curled up like a cat, still asleep, her long dark braid stretched out behind her.
They had talked late into the night—about Virethia, about training, about childhood pranks and palace stories. They hadn't mentioned her father, or the war, or the dragon within her. Just laughter and warmth. For the first time in years, Sylvara had felt like a girl her age—just Sylvara, not a vessel, not an heir.
Kaelen blinked awake beside her, dark hair tousled. His voice was quiet. "You didn't sleep much."
"I did," she whispered back. "A little. It was… peaceful."
He nodded, saying nothing more. But something flickered in his eyes. Not just duty—but concern. Something deeper. She looked away before it made her feel too much.
Kaida mumbled, "You two always this serious in the morning?"
Sylvara chuckled. "Only sometimes."
Then a knock came at the door.
A palace guard entered and bowed. "His Lordship, Commander Blackfyre, requests an audience with Her Highness in the western hall."
The warmth from the morning vanished like mist. Sylvara stood, brushing her hands over her tunic. "I should go."
Kaelen rose with her, his expression unreadable. "We'll wait here."
She gave a faint smile and followed the guard, her heart suddenly heavy with a hundred questions.
---
Chapter 3 – Part II: The Unseen Wound
The western hall of the palace was quieter than the rest. Sunlight streamed through stained glass, painting the floor in crimson and gold. Commander Blackfyre stood by a table, already pouring tea into two stone-carved cups.
"Sylvara," he said, nodding toward the chair across from him.
She sat, folding her hands in her lap. "You wanted to see me."
He placed the cup before her and sat as well. "I think it's time you knew the truth."
She didn't speak. She only listened.
The Commander's eyes, once sharp as a hawk's, now carried the weight of many winters. "Your father, Emperor Valtheron, didn't die. He was betrayed."
Sylvara's hands clenched. "By whom?"
"By those he once trusted. The vampires sent a message, claiming peace—saying the Vampire King was in danger. Your father went to Dragon Valley with me. But it was a trap."
She froze. "He was ambushed?"
"Yes. But he defeated them." Blackfyre's voice was grim. "Still, Dragon Valley is cursed. It weakens dragons, corrupts magic. And when the battle ended… an ancient spirit sealed him—mistaking him for the threat."
Sylvara's heart pounded. "He's alive?"
"Yes," Blackfyre said. "Trapped in the valley. His body remains within the royal tomb chamber, sealed and preserved by the ancient magic of the place. Everyone knows this—but only a few know why. He was not slain by war or time, but by misunderstanding and the curse of Dragon Valley itself."
Tears burned in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "Why me?"
"Because you are the vessel of the Silver Dragon. The one born with its mark." His voice softened. "And you are Elenaria's daughter. You were born of two legacies: flame and moonlight. You were always meant to carry this burden."
Sylvara looked down at her hands, trembling. She had felt it, all her life—the fire inside her, the weight of expectation. But now it had a name. A purpose.
"What do I do now?" she whispered.
Blackfyre looked her in the eyes. "Now… you train. The Silver Dragon must awaken fully. And when the time comes, you will go to Dragon Valley—not just to reclaim your father, but to face the darkness that sealed him there."
---
Back in her chambers, Sylvara returned to Kaelen and Kaida.
She said nothing.
But they saw it in her eyes—the storm, the resolve, the sorrow.
Kaelen stepped forward. "What did he say?"
Sylvara looked between them—her protector and her closest friend. Then, in a voice both soft and strong, she said:
"He's alive. And I have to become strong enough to bring him back."
And so, the fire of destiny flickered in her chest once more.
The true preparation had begun.