Serenya Valir knelt beneath the sky that bled red.
Her forehead touched the scorched soil. Her lips whispered the old rites — not for show, not for duty, but because she feared what she had become without them. The fire within her flickered uncertainly, as if sensing the heresy forming like frost at the edges of her soul.
Light, guide me. Flame, consume what is false in me. Dominion above, make me pure again.
When she rose, ash clung to her white robes like a shroud. The standard-bearer waited a few paces behind, eyes carefully lowered. He had seen her pray often, but never for so long. Never with such silence afterward.
"Leave the banner," she said, her voice firm. "I'll go the rest of the way alone."
The soldier blinked. "Alone, Lady Valir?"
"They'll be less likely to shoot me without the sun at my back."
She saw the hesitation in his eyes — not fear for her safety, but suspicion. In the Dominion, no one walked alone without reason. Not even high priestesses.
But he obeyed. Of course he did. No one refused the Voice of the Flame.
As she rode down the slope toward the rebel line, her heart pounded harder with each hoofbeat. Not from fear. From memory.
She had not seen Kaelen Virelth in five years — not since their days at the College of the Flame, when he still believed that books could stop wars and she still believed that gods were always right.
They had kissed once. It had tasted like regret even then.
Now, he led a rebellion. And she... she served the empire that ordered his death.
The irony was not lost on her.
When she dismounted at the neutral meeting point — a circle of blackened stones that once marked trade routes — she saw them waiting: Kaelen, tall and gaunt, still wearing that haunted, thoughtful look; and Maera, his sister, sharp-eyed and armed like a storm waiting to break.
"Kaelen," she said, inclining her head.
He looked at her for a long time, saying nothing. Not with his mouth, at least. His eyes searched hers, not for truth — but for what she had lost.
"I didn't think it would be you," he said quietly.
"Neither did I."
They stood in silence for a moment, the past pressing in around them like fog. Then Maera spoke, voice cold as flint.
"You have sixty seconds to say what you came to say. After that, I stop believing you rode here for peace."
Serenya met her gaze. "Not peace. A warning."
Maera raised an eyebrow.
"The Dominion has found the Vault beneath Mount Erendis. The First Flame's cradle. They plan to use it. Soon."
Kaelen paled.
"That's not possible," he said. "It's a myth. A story."
"So was the burning of Kireth," she said, voice steady. "Until we made it real."
Kaelen stepped forward. "Why are you telling us this?"
Serenya hesitated.
"Because I'm not sure we deserve to win anymore."
And because, in the quiet between battle cries and prayers, when the fire dims, I still dream of you.
But she didn't say that part out loud.