Miku_Peachy

In the peaceful village of Liora, Elara Wynne lives a quiet life mixing potions and healing herbs. But when a strange celestial mark appears on her hand and creatures from forgotten legends begin to hunt her, Elara is thrust into a world of magic she never knew existed.

Kael Thorne, a knight of the lost order, finds her just in time. Cold, duty-bound, and harboring secrets of his own, he reveals that Elara isn’t just anyone — she’s the last descendant of the Aetherblood line, gifted with an ancient power feared and worshipped by kingdoms.

As war brews and factions rise, Elara must awaken her hidden powers before the darkness consumes everything — including the knight slowly unraveling her heart.

Whisper of Aetheria

Elara stumbled back from the altar, the shard burning in her palm.

The vision still echoed in her skull — a whisper cutting through fire:

"Did you hear that?" she asked, turning toward Miraen and the others.

"The shard spoke," she said, voice trembling. "It said… I'm not the only heir."

Kael's expression darkened. "Another Flameborn?"

Miraen stepped closer, face pale. "No. Not another. A rival."

The firelight flickered strangely — as if something unseen had heard its name.

Miraen exhaled slowly. "The last time the Gate fractured, it didn't just scatter the seals. It fractured bloodlines. Isolde wasn't the only bearer of the inner flame. There was one other — her twin."

Elara's knees nearly gave out. "Aunt?"

"Lost in the war. Or so it was believed," Miraen said grimly. "But if she survived—her descendants may still carry the flame. And if that heir finds the final shard first…"

Seris sheathed her blade with a click. "We've got a race on our hands."

Kael frowned. "And we're two shards in. That makes us a target."

Miraen nodded. "The third seal lies in the ruins of Elarion — buried beneath ice, locked behind time. But I fear you're no longer the only one seeking it."

Elara looked down at her hand. The second shard had merged with the first — the flame within her stronger now, alive in every breath.

She could feel her mother's will rising through her blood — but it was no longer alone.

Another flame answered it. Feral. Ancient. Hungry.

"Elara," Kael said, stepping closer. "Whatever happens, we face it together. You're not alone."

She met his eyes, feeling the heat in her chest, her mind—her soul.

"No," she said. "But I might have to be. If this other heir is like me, she'll feel me too. And the only way to stop her may be to find her."

The wind howled through the cracked windows of the Temple, scattering ashes like snow.

Miraen looked up. "Then we must move. Now. Before she comes to us."

Far from the Temple, across mountains and ice, another flame flared to life — in a girl with silver eyes, surrounded by shadows.

The Other Flame