The sky burned crimson over Vaelthar, the capital of the Sunspire Dominion.
Flames climbed the marble towers like living serpents, their tongues tasting the stars. The air reeked of smoke and blood, and the once-proud bells of the Sunspire temple rang—not for prayer, but for war.
Serenya Kaelthorn ran barefoot through the market district, the cobblestones slick with ash and rain. Her breathing came ragged, her heart pounding like a war drum. Every step carried the echo of her mother's last words: "Run, my starling… and never look back."
She had looked back.
She wished she hadn't.
Through the haze, she had seen the black-armored soldiers of the Obsidian Covenant storming their home, their swords glowing with unnatural light. Behind them loomed a figure wreathed in shadow, its eyes burning gold—a sight that seared into her mind like molten iron.
A sharp cry broke her thoughts. To her left, a boy no older than ten lay trapped beneath a fallen fruit cart. Serenya's instincts screamed to keep running, but her legs betrayed her. She darted to him, shoving the cart with all her strength. The boy crawled free, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes.
"Go!" she urged. "Run to the river and don't stop!"
Before she could follow, the air shifted.
The temperature dropped. The noise of battle faded, as though the city itself held its breath.
She turned—and there he was.
The shadow-clad figure stood at the far end of the street, his golden eyes fixed on her as if the world around them did not exist. He raised his hand, and a thin line of black fire began to form between his fingers, writhing like a serpent.
Serenya's feet refused to move. Something deep within her—older than her own blood—reacted to that power. Her chest burned, not from fear, but from a strange, thrumming heat. She didn't understand it, but she knew one thing:
If that black fire touched her, she would not die—she would become something else.
A sudden blast of wind tore through the street, sending tiles and debris into the air. An unseen force yanked her backward, and she was slammed into a pair of strong arms.
A hooded stranger stood over her, voice low and urgent.
"On your feet, girl. The world needs you alive."
Before she could speak, he flung a small crystal at the ground. The street exploded in blinding light.
And the city was gone.