The chill of pre-dawn settled over the capital like a hush before a storm. Within the palace, the servants still slept. The guards rotated silently. No one noticed the shadow that slipped out through the servant's gate cloaked in gray, her face hidden beneath a wide hood.
Elira did not look back.
Kael followed three paces behind, his hand resting near the hilt of his sword. His armor had been replaced with traveler's leathers, dark and inconspicuous. The sigil of the palace guard had been stripped from his collar.
They were no longer nobility or soldier.
Now, they were simply prey trying to outrun a hunt.
Their departure had been arranged with meticulous care. The Queen Dowager had not forbidden her to leave but Elira knew better than to ask permission from someone who saw power as a leash.
A raven's feather tied in silver ribbon sat on her writing desk, untouched.
"Which gate?" Kael asked softly.
"The north-west," Elira replied. "The stone path toward the Firewatch hills. We take the high trail to avoid patrols."
"No caravan, no escort?" he muttered. "It's not too late to stage a diplomatic excuse."
Elira shook her head. "The court watches every step I take. If I want the truth, I need to vanish for a while."
Kael frowned. "Disappearing princesses don't often return. Not without blood on the road."
"I'm counting on it," she said.
---
The landscape shifted as they rode through the outlying hills. What began as mist-veiled woods and farmland turned into harsh, craggy slopes peppered with ruined towers and the bones of forgotten keeps.
The further they traveled, the quieter the world became.
They avoided main roads, using forgotten forest trails and broken bridges. They camped in hollows and caves, Kael always sleeping near the entrance, sword close.
On the fifth day, they crossed into the borderlands of Velmira the last province still marked on imperial maps before the northern wilds.
The air here tasted of iron and moss. Ruins dotted the landscape remnants of the old war, scorched black and half-swallowed by nature.
Elira gazed at one as they passed. "This place was once a city, wasn't it?"
Kael nodded. "Flameharbor. One of the first to fall when the Temple was sealed. They say the earth opened and swallowed half the town."
"And the other half?"
"Burned."
Elira stared at the charred stone walls, vines creeping through shattered windows. "Who did this?"
"No one's sure," Kael said. "The Church blamed heretics. The nobles blamed the Flamebound. But none of them ever returned to explain."
She dismounted, approaching a broken fountain overgrown with bramble.
There, etched faintly into the stone, was the symbol of the phoenix her family's ancient crest.
She touched it lightly. "My grandmother might've stood here."
"She might've died here," Kael said.
Elira's voice was quiet. "Then I will walk where she fell."
---
That night, they camped beneath a broken aqueduct. The stars above were brighter than any in the palace sharp, cold lights across a canvas of ink. Elira sat by the fire, the flames dancing in her eyes, while Kael cooked something over the coals that smelled faintly of rabbit and herbs.
"We should reach the ruins by tomorrow night," he said. "The weather's holding, but the further north we go…"
"The closer we get to the cursed lands," Elira murmured. "Where the Flame was banished."
Kael glanced up. "You don't believe that tale, do you?"
"I don't believe in tales," she said. "But I believe in warnings wrapped in stories."
Kael handed her a tin plate of food and sat beside her. The silence between them stretched comfortably for a moment until a crack sounded in the woods.
He was on his feet instantly, blade drawn.
Elira stood slowly, power humming just beneath her skin.
But there was nothing.
No wind. No beast. No movement among the trees.
Kael slowly lowered his sword. "Could've been an animal."
"Or something watching us," Elira said.
He didn't argue.
---
Far beyond the firelight, in the trees above, something crouched among the branches—eyes reflecting red, motionless, breathless.
It had followed them since the capital.
It wore no armor and carried no sword, but where it walked, no bird sang.
Its eyes had seen the Flame before.
And this girl… she reeked of its echo.
---
By morning, the trees thinned into barren slopes. The soil here was black with ash, though the fires had burned centuries ago. Nothing grew. Not even moss.
Elira wrapped her scarf tighter around her face, wind stinging her cheeks. The temple's ruins stood in the distance like jagged teeth against the horizon.
A crumbling monolith, half-swallowed by mountain and snow.
As they approached, Kael dismounted. "The horses won't go further. They're skittish."
"They can sense it," Elira said. "The place remembers what was done here."
She moved forward on foot, her boots crunching over black gravel.
The Temple of the Hollow Flame had once been a sanctuary, built to contain and worship the divine fire that had blessed the Empire's founders. It had been a place of light.
Now, it was a grave.
The outer walls were shattered, and the pillars leaning like drunkards. Statues once proud were crumbled into dust. But the gate an arched obsidian maw carved with sigils in a language lost to time—remained whole.
Elira stepped beneath it.
And the wind stopped.
Kael froze behind her. "Did you feel that?"
She nodded. "We crossed a threshold."
The air was still here. Thick. The kind of silence that presses against your chest and dares you to breathe.
They entered the ruins, each step echoing in unnatural quiet.
Beneath the main hall, they found stairs leading down cut into the stone, jagged and steep.
A faint light flickered below.
---
At the bottom, the walls pulsed with glowing veins—like fire trapped behind stone. At the center of the chamber, a pedestal stood.
And resting atop it… a crown.
Not of gold or silver but of black iron and crystal, forged in twisting flame.
Elira approached slowly.
She could hear it whisper.
Not in words.
In feeling.
The weight of ages. The hunger of power. The promise of return.
Kael stepped in front of her. "Wait. What is that?"
"I don't know," she said. "But it knows me."
Before he could stop her, she reached out.
Her fingers brushed the iron.
And the world shattered.
---
A vision overtook her.
She stood not in the ruin, but in the temple as it once was golden pillars and blazing braziers, thousands gathered in worship. At the center, a woman stood upon a dais, flame swirling around her like a cloak.
Her face was Elira's.
But older.
Stronger.
She wore the crown.
And her voice thundered: "I burn not for vengeance, but for justice."
The crowd roared.
But as the vision shifted, darkness fell.
The same woman now stood alone, the temple in ruins, blood at her feet.
And from the shadows came a voice—
"You defied the pact. You broke the chain."
Elira turned and saw a creature with no face, only eyes like suns.
"You are Flame no longer," it said. "You are mine."
---
Elira gasped, stumbling back as the vision ended.
Kael caught her. "Elira! What happened?"
She clutched her head, breath shallow. "I saw her. The First Flame. She looked like me."
"The woman in the stories?"
"She was real," Elira whispered. "And something betrayed her. Something… still watching."
Kael glanced at the crown. "We need to leave. Now."
But even as they turned, the chamber behind them shifted.
Stone grated against stone.
The exit was closing.
And from the darkness above, eyes began to glow.
---