Chapter One: The Kingdom of Oathfire
The kingdom of Caerthwyn had been built on vows. Its walls rose high and pale as bone, etched with runes that glowed faintly whenever a promise was sworn within their bounds. It was said that the first king carved his words into stone with fire itself, binding his descendants and every subject who breathed Caerthwyn's air to the same magic. No oath was idle in this land. Each vow was sealed in blood, and each broken promise carved its punishment into the soul.
Kaelen knew this truth better than most. He stood at the training yard, sword in hand, sweat slicking the dark curls at his brow. His breath came hard, though not from exhaustion, he had sparred for hours, but the tension that gnawed at him had little to do with the clash of steel. Across the yard, half-hidden behind a colonnade of pale stone, someone watched.
Arinya.
Her cloak was of crimson velvet, embroidered with the crest of her house—a blazing phoenix rising from ashes. She should not have been there, watching soldiers drill like commoners. But Arinya had never been one to obey where her heart tugged otherwise.
Kaelen pretended not to see her. He struck again at his opponent, blade meeting blade with a ringing cry, until his rival stumbled back. The match ended. Yet instead of basking in victory, Kaelen's eyes lifted once more to where she stood. Their gazes locked. And in that instant, the world stilled.
Arinya's lips curved in the faintest smile, one meant for no one else but him. He sheathed his blade, bowing to his opponent in dismissal. Then he crossed the yard, his heart thrumming as though it longed to leap free of his chest. When he reached her, he kept his voice low, cautious. "You should not linger here, my lady. Someone will see."
"Let them," she murmured, tilting her chin up. Her eyes storm-grey, flecked with silver seemed to challenge the world itself.
Kaelen exhaled sharply, half in admiration, half in despair. "You tempt fate too easily."
"And you, Kaelen, are too afraid of it." She stepped closer, so near he caught the faint scent of wild lilac on her cloak. Her hand brushed his brief, a whisper of touch but it seared like flame. The rules of Caerthwyn were clear: a sworn knight could not bind themselves in love to one of royal blood. The magic of oaths did not allow it. To vow loyalty to crown and to heart in equal measure was to tear the soul apart. But Kaelen had already made his choice long ago, in silence, in secret. He had sworn himself to her, though never aloud, never in words.
And oaths, even unspoken, carried weight.
"Arinya," he whispered, and there was reverence in the way he spoke her name, "you risk too much."
She smiled, though sorrow shadowed her eyes. "Then swear to me, Kaelen. Not in secret. Not in silence. Here and now."
His chest tightened. He glanced around, but the yard was empty now, save for them. The runes on the walls glimmered faintly, waiting, listening, always listening.
"Do you know what you ask of me?" he said.
"I do," she replied. "And I ask it anyway."
Kaelen's hand trembled as he lifted it, brushing his fingertips against the hilt of his sword. His life was hers already—yet to carve it into vow was to seal it forever, to bind his soul in chains stronger than steel.
Still, looking at her, he knew he could never refuse.
"I swear," he said at last, voice rough. "By my blade and by my breath, by my blood and by my soul: I will protect you, Arinya. Against any who would harm you, against fate itself if need be. I will not falter, and I will not forsake you."
The moment the words left him, the runes carved into the yard's walls blazed white-hot. His oath etched itself into the very stones of Caerthwyn. A searing pain lanced through his chest brief but fierce as though fire had branded his heart.
Arinya's hand caught his, steadying him. "Kaelen"
He forced a smile through the ache. "It is done."
Her eyes shone, though he could not tell whether it was joy or fear that brightened them.
The vow was sealed. And somewhere deep within Caerthwyn's bones, the kingdom stirred, as though it had been waiting for this very promise.
The echo of his vow lingered in the air long after the runes dimmed. It was as though Caerthwyn itself held its breath, waiting to see what such a reckless promise would bring.
Kaelen's palm still tingled where Arinya had touched it. He forced himself to step back, though every instinct screamed at him to draw nearer, to claim what his heart already knew was his.
"You've doomed me," he said softly, though there was no bitterness in it.
Her smile wavered. "Then we are doomed together."
A horn sounded from the citadel, sharp and commanding. Arinya startled, pulling her cloak tighter. "The council summons me."
"Go," Kaelen urged. "Before they notice your absence."
She hesitated, then leaned closer, her words a whisper against his ear. "Meet me tonight. The gardens. Under the elderfire tree."
And then she was gone, a streak of crimson disappearing into the corridors of stone.
Kaelen remained a moment longer, staring at the runes etched into the yard's walls. The glow had faded, but he could feel the oath burning in his chest still, carved deep into the marrow of his being.
He had sworn.
And oaths, once carved, could never be undone.
That night, the gardens slept beneath a veil of silver moonlight. Elderfire blossoms glowed faintly along the branches of the ancient tree at the center, their petals catching starlight like shards of flame.
Kaelen arrived first, cloaked in shadow. His hand brushed the tree's bark, rough and scarred. Legend whispered that every monarch of Caerthwyn had sworn beneath this tree, binding themselves to the crown. Some said the tree's roots fed on those vows, growing stronger with every oath kept or broken.
"Kaelen."
Her voice was soft, but it carried. He turned to see Arinya slip between the hedges, her hair unbound, tumbling like a cascade of midnight. No jewels, no crown only her.
For a heartbeat, the world fell away.
She crossed to him, and when her hand found his, the ache in his chest eased, if only a little.
"I felt it," she whispered. "The moment you swore to me. It was as if fire rushed through my veins. As if the kingdom itself took notice."
"It did," he murmured. "And it will not let us forget."
They sat beneath the elderfire tree, shoulders brushing, silence settling like a fragile truce. The garden smelled of blossoms and earth, of magic woven into every leaf.
"Tell me," Kaelen said at last, "why you asked this of me. You knew the cost."
Arinya's eyes glimmered with secrets. "Because a storm is coming. The council speaks of alliances, of war brewing beyond our borders. I may soon be bound by a different vow one that would tear me from you forever."
His jaw tightened. "A marriage pact."
She nodded, gaze falling to their joined hands. "To secure Caerthwyn's strength. To bind us to the House of Dareth."
The name struck Kaelen like a blade. Dareth, their oldest rival. Cruel, ambitious, and relentless.
"You would be their queen," he said flatly.
"I would be their prisoner," she corrected, her voice trembling. "And I could not bear it."
Kaelen's oath burned hotter in his chest, as though it heard her words and answered with fury. "Then I will stop it. Whatever it takes."
Her fingers tightened around his. "That is why I needed your vow. Because I fear what is to come. I fear losing you, Kaelen. And if the kingdom must carve its price from us, then let it. I would rather be ash with you than crown without you."
The elderfire blossoms above them stirred, though no wind blew. Petals rained down, glowing faintly as they touched the ground—like sparks falling from a dying flame.
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, the roots of the elderfire tree curled tighter, drinking in their words.
Kaelen dreamed that night of fire.
He stood in the throne room, though it burned around him. Ash fell like snow, coating the blackened stone. On the throne sat Arinya, crowned in flames, her eyes hollow as cinders. She reached for him, but when he tried to take her hand, it crumbled to dust.
He woke with a cry, the taste of smoke in his lungs.
And though the dream faded with the dawn, the dread it left behind did not.