The fire cracked softly in Ariana's chamber, casting golden light against the stone walls as rain tapped lightly on the windows. Sleep had evaded her all night. Her blood sang with power, but her heart beat with a hollow ache—an ache tied to the woman she barely remembered: her mother.
She sat cross-legged before the hearth, the sealed box Seraphine had delivered days ago resting in her lap.
"This came from your mother's old quarters," the Duchess had whispered. "Hidden beneath false stone. Only fireblood can open it."
Ariana ran her fingertips over the box's surface—runes in the Eldareth tongue shimmered faintly as her touch activated them. A glow spread under her skin.
The box pulsed… then clicked open.
Inside: a folded parchment sealed with a black wax crest—an Eldareth flame wrapped in a serpent's coil.
And a single, blood-red ring.
Ariana's fingers trembled as she unfolded the letter. The moment the seal broke, the flames in the hearth surged—and her vision shattered like glass.
She stood in a garden of night-blooming lilies, under a sky of violet stormclouds.
A woman stood ahead of her, cloaked in silks the color of spilled wine, her hair long and dark as obsidian. She turned slowly, revealing Ariana's own eyes.
"My little flame," she whispered.
Ariana's breath caught. "Mother?"
The woman smiled, but grief carved deep into her beauty. "There are things you were never meant to know. But now that your blood has awakened… they will hunt you."
"Who are they?" Ariana demanded.
"The Eldareth High Circle. I was once one of them. I betrayed them to keep you safe."
Wind howled around them, tearing petals from the trees.
"I was born Lady Elanora of House Kaelith, first daughter of the Eldareth Flameborn Court. Your father—he was Virelian. Forbidden. But I loved him more than I feared them."
The sky cracked with lightning.
"They cast me out. Branded me. Swore your name would never exist in their records. But I saw the prophecy, Ariana. I saw you."
"What prophecy?"
"You will either unite our broken bloodlines… or burn both kingdoms to ash."
---
The vision tore apart with a scream of wind.
Ariana jerked back in her chamber, chest heaving, the letter fluttering from her grasp.
Rain lashed harder against the windows now. The hearth had gone out—though no one had touched it.
She picked up the ring from the box, sliding it onto her finger. It pulsed against her skin.
A single sentence echoed in her mind—spoken by her mother's voice:
"When the fire in you meets the fire in him, the world will change."
Later that day, Ariana stood before the mirror, dressed in black and crimson, her mother's ring gleaming with latent power.
Damian entered, pausing as he saw her face.
"You look like someone preparing for war," he said quietly.
She turned to him. "I've seen my mother. She was Eldareth royalty. Banished. Hunted. For loving someone like my father."
Damian's lips parted, eyes darkening.
"She left me more than a warning. She left me a choice."
"Ariana—"
"We can't win this with armies alone," she said. "We win this with truth. With unity. Or with fire."
He stepped closer. "Whichever path you choose… I'm walking beside you."
She looked up into his eyes—eyes that held both danger and devotion. "Even if I become what t
hey fear?"
Damian's voice was a growl. "Then I'll become what they fear even more."