When I open my eyes, the world is made of light and ash.
No sky. No ground. Only drifting white mist that hums with a heartbeat too deep to belong to the earth.
For a moment I think I'm dead. Then the pain returns—the ache in my arm where the creature clawed me, the pulse of something molten under my skin. Every breath tastes like smoke and silver.
"Valen?" My voice echoes back at me, thin and uncertain. No answer, only the slow sound of wind moving through ruins.
The mist clears enough for me to see them: broken pillars half-buried in pale sand, carved with symbols that shimmer when I look too long. A temple once stood here. I can feel it—its memories cling to the stones, whispering fragments of a language I almost understand.
I push to my feet, swaying. My boots crunch on glassy dust. Somewhere far off, thunder rolls.
Where am I?
The mark on my chest burns, pulsing to that hidden rhythm. Each beat sharpens my senses—every sound, every shimmer in the air. I can hear my own blood, smell the faint tang of iron. The power feels wild, alive, like a creature waking inside me.
When I speak again, the air trembles. "Is anyone here?"
The answer comes as a whisper carried on the wind: My flame…
I freeze. The voice is Valen's, distant and rough, but laced with pain. It fades almost instantly, swallowed by the vast quiet.
He's alive. Somewhere.
I turn in slow circles, scanning the horizon. The mist thickens and shapes begin to form inside it—figures, half-transparent, flickering like candlelight. Their faces are pale imitations of life, eyes empty. They watch me silently.
One steps forward, robes trailing like smoke. Her voice is soft but resonant, echoing from everywhere at once.
"You walk again, Queen of the Flame. The realm remembers you."
"I'm not—" The protest dies in my throat. "Who are you?"
"A remnant. What remains of the Crown Realm after your fall."
"My fall?"
The ghostly woman tilts her head. "You burned this world once. Out of love, out of rage, out of both. The prince carried your ashes through centuries until the curse remade you."
Valen. The image of his silver eyes flashes behind my eyelids.
"I don't remember any of that," I whisper.
"You will."
She raises a hand, and light spills from her palm. It touches the ground, unfurling into a vision—blinding fire, a throne of bone, Valen kneeling before me with blood on his mouth and sorrow in his eyes. Then a scream, my scream, and everything collapsing into smoke.
I stumble back, clutching my chest. "Stop!"
The vision shatters, scattering sparks through the mist. The spirit lowers her hand, her gaze mournful.
"The bond still binds you. As long as he breathes, the curse endures."
"What curse?"
"The Bloodborn were never meant to live without their flame. His heart was bound to yours. When you died, he became what he is now—immortal, haunted, waiting for you to return."
My knees hit the sand. The words sink like stones. "You're saying… I caused this?"
"You both did."
The ghost drifts closer until her face is inches from mine. "But destiny is not yet finished with you."
Her fingers touch my forehead. The world explodes into light.
I'm falling through memories—fast, relentless.
A castle under crimson skies. My own laughter echoing through marble halls. Valen's hand brushing mine, the jolt of power that passed between us. Then betrayal: a circle of traitors, a dagger through my heart, and Valen roaring my name as flames consumed us all.
I gasp and snap back to the present, sprawled on the sand. The spirit is gone. The mist churns violently.
My mark burns hotter now, the glow spreading across my collarbone, down my arms. Power throbs inside me, begging to be released.
"Valen," I whisper, gripping the sand. "If you can hear me… I need you."
The air ripples. A shadow forms ahead—tall, familiar. Relief floods me, sharp and foolish. "Valen?"
The figure steps forward. Not him.
Its eyes are molten gold, not silver, and its smile is too wide. Horns curl from its temples, black as obsidian.
"Little flame," it purrs, voice deep and wrong. "You woke sooner than expected."
I scramble back. "Who are you?"
"I am the echo of your power," it says, bowing mockingly. "The part you buried when you chose love over the crown."
The ground shivers under its feet. Every instinct screams danger. "Stay away from me."
"Can't," it replies easily. "You called for help. I answered."
"I called for Valen."
It laughs, a sound like breaking glass. "He can't reach you here. But I can show you what he hides from you."
Before I can react, it presses a hand to my chest. Pain rips through me—fire, lightning, memories colliding.
Valen kneeling before a council of vampires, his eyes cold. A sword driven through a mortal's heart—my heart—in another life. His whisper: Forgive me.
I wrench free, choking on air. "Stop! He saved me!"
The creature's grin widens. "He doomed you, Queen. Every time you return, he finds you. Every time, you die. Tell me, does that sound like salvation?"
The words pierce deeper than claws. For a heartbeat, doubt flickers. Then I shove it down. "I don't believe you."
"Then survive long enough to learn the truth," it says. "The bond will consume you both soon enough."
The creature dissolves into smoke, leaving the scent of scorched metal behind. The mist trembles, and I feel it—a pull, fierce and undeniable, dragging me toward something unseen.
A voice, faint but clear, cuts through the air. Aradia… come back.
Valen.
The sound anchors me. I close my eyes and focus on it, on the tether between us. Energy floods my body—wild, pure, burning. The mist screams as light explodes from my hands.
I stand in a circle of fire, the ruins ablaze. The mark on my skin blazes white-hot. Above, the clouds twist open, revealing a sky full of silver lightning.
Through the storm, I see him—Valen—his outline flickering like a reflection on water. He's reaching for me, face etched with fear.
"Don't move," he shouts, voice echoing across worlds. "You're not stable!"
"I can't—" The energy surges again. The fire rises higher. "I don't know how to stop it!"
"Then let me in!"
"What?"
"Trust me!"
His hand reaches through the veil of light. I hesitate, every instinct torn between terror and longing. Then I take it.
For an instant, the bond snaps into place—two heartbeats merging. The world holds its breath.
I see everything—his loneliness, centuries of waiting, the way he's watched every reincarnation of me from the shadows, always too late. He sees my confusion, my fear, my stubborn hope.
The power between us surges, uncontrolled. The air cracks.
"Aradia!" he yells.
"Valen!"
The light collapses inward, swallowing us both.
When the world steadies, I'm no longer in the ruins. I'm standing in a vast hall made of black stone and burning sigils—the heart of some ancient palace. Outside the windows, a blood-red moon hangs heavy.
And Valen stands before me, real this time, breathing hard, eyes blazing silver.
He takes one slow step forward. "Welcome back to the Blood Court, my queen."
The doors slam shut behind me.
End of Chapter Three.