The skies above Zephyra shimmered with sunrise gold as Lyria Everwind stood at the edge of the floating palace terrace, the wind dancing around her hair like a living spirit. Her turquoise eyes glowed faintly with lightning, a mark of the stormblood that flowed through the Everwind line.
"Another storm brewing in the east," she whispered. "And not the kind we can control."
Behind her, a tall figure in gilded armor approached — Kael Draven, Knight of Aurelia. His white cloak fluttered against the wind.
"Princess," he greeted softly. "The council awaits. News from Ignara — Umbraheim's legions have crossed the Emberline."
Lyria turned sharply. "Already? That's too soon. They were supposed to hold for weeks."
"They burned through three battalions," Kael said grimly. "Gravon Blacksteel leads the siege. Entire cities are falling."
Thunder cracked above them — not from nature, but from Lyria's pulse. "Then we don't have time for politics."
Kael smiled faintly. "You never did."
Their moment broke as a hawk descended — carrying a message from Vernis.
The seal bore the mark of Seren Veyra, healer and spirit whisperer.
"Darkness spreads through the roots of the world. Even the forests weep."
Lyria clenched her fists. "Then it begins."