The skies above Valkoron simmered with dark-hued clouds, painted in violet and storm-gray, as if the heavens themselves stirred in anticipation. Lightning cracked in the distance, illuminating the towering spires of the Stormborne citadel.
Valerian Stormborne, cloaked in a mantle of midnight blue, stood surveying the expanse below. His eyes, narrowed.
"The winds grow uneasy," he muttered.
Behind him, Kaelen Thorn adjusted the leather straps of his cuirass. "A sign, perhaps. The skies know you leave Valkoron."
Valerian turned, casting a brief glance at the man who had ridden beside him in a dozen wars. "No sign worth fearing. Let the winds howl. We ride for Caelmont."
Below, the citadel courtyard buzzed with activity. Storm steeds...leek creatures with hooves like polished onyx and manes that crackled faintly with static...were being saddled by stablehands.
The banners of House Stormborne flapped violently in the rising gale, the emblem of a silver thunderbolt splitting a black storm cloud on a deep navy Field, with jagged lightning patterns along the edges.
Therion, the scarred warred warrior, approached, leading two steeds. "The men are ready. Ten knights ride with us, handpicked."
Kaelen raised a brow. "Only ten?"
"Swift riders," Valerian replied. "we're not going to war kaelen, so we don't need an an army."
Inside the armory wing, Vaelric sat on a bench, his legs swinging restlessly. He held his storm-steed saddle pommel with one hand and a rolled map in the other. He had polished his riding boots three times already. When Kaelen entered, the boy snapped to his feet.
"Will the Flame Lord's daughter be there?" Vaelric asked, his voice careful. Too careful.
Kaelen gave a slight smirk. "And what do you know of her?"
"Only what the tales say," Vaelric shrugged, not meeting the man's eyes. "She's cursed. Dangerous. Some say her blood could bring fire to the skies."
Kaelen studied him for a moment. "Tales are often born from fear. And men fear what they do not understand."
"I don't fear her," Vaelric muttered.
Kaelen said nothing, but he noted the boy's tightened jaw.
"She did" kaelen said to answer the boy's question. "She was a legend, but sadly like some legends....they fade".
The great gates of Valkoron opened as thunder rolled across the mountains.
Vaelric clambered onto his own steed, gripping the reins like a boy pretending to be a man. Therion rode beside him and gave a nod of approval.
" This is your first time riding to Caelmont right?"
"Yes,even anywhere. But I've studied the maps. And the customs," Vaelric replied.
Therion snorted. "Maps don't tell you how to read men. Or lies. You'll learn."
With a final command, the riders of Valkoron thundered through the mountain pass, the wind screaming in their ears. Lightning danced across the skies as if saluting their departure. Behind them, the Stormborne stronghold grew smaller, swallowed by the mists.
As they rode into the storm, Vaelric looked back only once—toward the citadel he called home—then faced forward. He had a thousand questions, most of which he kept to himself.
But one thought refused to leave him:
The Flame Lord's daughter.
He had heard of her. The cursed girl. Whispers said she had fire in her blood and shadows in her soul. But Vaelric had glimpsed her once before, in a dream...
Now, they were to meet and he can't wait.
Lightning split the sky.
And the Stormborne rode on.
*****
Far to the south, the Flamebornes prepared for their own journey.
In Emberhold's stables, the air shimmered with heat. The mounts here were not storm steeds but emberscourge stallions....sleek, copper-coated beasts whose manes glowed faintly like smoldering coals, and whose breath steamed in the cool morning air.
Their hooves left small sparks when they struck the stone, and their dark eyes glimmered with restless fire.
Aldric oversaw the final preparations alongside his butler Steven, checking supplies for the days-long road to Caelmont. Outside, a lacquered carriage...black with crimson trim, the crest of House Flameborne etched in gold...waited at the castle steps. It was drawn by four emberscourge stallions, each pawing the ground impatiently. which was prepared for his two sisters.
Aldric hopes that his sister Aurelia will have courage because he knows she will need it to face what's to come in caelmont.
In front of the doors of the Castle, stood his step mother Isadora here to see them off, his step sister calista there too with a stupid grin on her face.
Aldric knows that she was only joining them on this journey to torment Aurelia. Calista have always been jealous of Aurelia back when she was the proud and favoured daughter of their father Azarion.
Calista's jealousy had deep roots. She had once been infatuated with Neris, and when Neris and Aurelia's betrothal was announced, that envy had turned poisonous.
The night Aurelia was cursed...her beauty marred, her powers gone....Calista had rejoiced. Since then, she had sought every chance to humiliate her.
She was jealous of Aurelia for the power she held, her beauty and Neris. The night she heard that Aurelia was cursed, deformed, her powers and beauty gone and she was ecstatic about it.
Since then she have tried ways to torment her knowing Aurelia won't be able to do a thing because she was now weak, all her powers was gone.
And this time, she will do everything possible to get Neris and humiliate her sister further. And this trip to Caelmont would give her the grandest stage yet.
The heavy doors opened again. Lord Azarion emerged, flanked by ministers who would accompany him to the trial. And behind them...
Aurelia.
She was cloaked in deep crimson, hood drawn, a dark veil concealing her face. Her steps were slow but steady as she descended the castle stairs toward the waiting carriage. The air between the gathered Flamebornes seemed to thicken, as though holding its breath.
The air was thick with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to cling to the very stones of Emberhold. Aldric watched her approach, his heart heavy with a mix of protectiveness and concern.
As Aurelia reached the carriage, she paused, her eyes briefly meeting Aldric's. In that moment, he saw a flicker of the sister he once knew...the fierce, unyielding spirit that had not been entirely extinguished by her misfortunes.
He offered her a reassuring nod, silently vowing to stand by her side through whatever trials awaited them in Caelmont.
Isadora, ever the picture of composure, stepped forward to bid them farewell. Her words were formal, her demeanor cool, yet there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she harbored her own ambitions for this journey.
Calista, meanwhile, barely concealed her glee, her smile wide and mocking as she watched Aurelia climb into the carriage.
The horses, fiery and restless, stamped their hooves impatiently, eager to be off. Unlike the storm steeds of Valkoron, these creatures seemed to embody the very essence of Emberhold--swift, powerful, and unyielding.
They would carry the Flamebornes across the rugged terrain, their journey marked by the flicker of torches and the glow of embers.
As the carriage set off, Aldric settled into his seat, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. The road to Caelmont would be long, fraught with challenges both seen and unseen. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, he held onto a single hope: that Aurelia might find some measure of redemption or strength in the trials to come.
As they traveled, Behind them, Emberhold shrank into the distance, its flame-lit towers swallowed by the rolling hills. its silhouette stark against the horizon. Ahead lay Caelmont...and the meeting of fire and storm.
What awaited them there, he could not say, but he knew it would be a turning point for them all.