Opening Scene:
The sky cracked open the moment Elira touched the crown.
She hadn't meant to steal it—only to see if the legends were true. But now the ancient relic pulsed in her hands, its fire licking at her skin, whispering secrets in a language she didn't know she understood.
Behind her, the temple guardians stirred. Stone eyes glowed. Swords hissed from their sheaths.
"The Thief and the Flame"
Elira Morgan had stolen many things in her life—coins, jewels, secrets. But never a crown.
The Temple of Solmira was supposed to be abandoned. Its gates rusted shut, its halls silent. But the moment she stepped inside, the air changed. It smelled of ash and memory.
She wasn't here for glory. She was here for coin. The rumors said the Ember Crown was locked in the temple's heart, untouched for centuries. A relic of a forgotten age. Worth enough to buy her freedom from the slums of Virell.
She crept past shattered statues and faded murals, her fingers brushing the hilt of her dagger. At the center of the temple, on a pedestal of obsidian, it waited.
The crown was unlike anything she'd imagined—delicate, forged from flame-colored metal, and pulsing with a soft, rhythmic glow. It didn't look ancient. It looked alive.
Elira hesitated. Then reached out.
The moment her fingers touched it, the world exploded in light. Fire surged through her veins. Symbols flared across the walls. And somewhere deep within the temple, something woke.
She stumbled back, clutching the crown. Her wrist burned. A mark appeared—glowing orange, shaped like a flame.
The whispers began.
She ran.