Seraphira had bent kingdoms.
Bound the sky to her cause.
Earned the blessing of witches and demons alike.
But no triumph ever came without grief.
And the higher she rose, the more the fire inside her began to change.
Not flickering.
Not faltering.
But aching.
As if it knew what she refused to speak aloud:
The closer she drew to uniting the realms…
The more she risked losing herself.
In the Hall of Flame and Root...
She sat in stillness, her fingers tracing the spiral on her wrist.
The mark now pulsed not with light but with memory.
Of her mother's voice.
Of her exile.
Of Kaelreth's touch.
Of the mirror's warning.
Of the moment she chose shadow, not out of darkness, but because no one else dared.
Elena entered quietly.
You haven't slept.
Seraphira didn't answer.
Elena crossed the room, knelt before her, and said, You're unraveling.
I'm becoming, Seraphira whispered. That's what they all wanted, isn't it?
Elena looked at her, heart breaking.
No, she said. We didn't want a goddess. We wanted you.
That night, the fire wept.
It happened during a stormless silence when the stars stood still and the wind dared not speak.
The spiral mark glowed white-hot.
Seraphira fell to her knees.
From her eyes fell tears of flame.
Not burning her skin, but carving it, etching new spirals of glowing sorrow across her cheeks.
The Witches felt it in their groves.
The Skyborne heard it in the clouds.
Even Kaelreth, far in the depths of the Hollow felt his own flame flicker in response.
Malkor rushed to his side. What's wrong?
She's breaking, Kaelreth said, breath tight.
Or changing into something the world has no name for.
At dawn…
Seraphira emerged from the sanctuary cloaked in silence.
Her voice was raw. Her eyes burned not with fury but with unshed grief.
And yet… she was stronger.
Something had melted inside her and been remade.
The Spiral Flame no longer marked her.
It flowed through her.
Not a symbol.
Not a prophecy.
But a part of her soul.
She whispered to Elena before mounting her steed:
If I fall… remind them I never wanted the crown.
I only wanted to choose what it meant.
And Elena, her voice shaking, replied:
Then don't fall.
Not while we still believe in you.
🌑 In the Underworld…
Kaelreth stood in the garden of black thorns, hands trembling.
She weeps fire, he murmured.
Malkor frowned. What does that mean?
Kaelreth's eyes darkened.
It means the Spiral no longer controls her.
And soon… neither will I.