Chapter 11 – A Fox Between the Flames

The morning mist had not yet lifted from Valencrest's towers when the first plume of black smoke rose in the east.

Selene stood at the balcony of the observatory, shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders. From above, the city looked like a map of memory—one she could no longer trust.

Below, alarm bells clanged in rhythmic bursts.

Aro burst into the chamber, breath sharp:

"A fire near the east gate. Not an accident."

She turned to him slowly.

"How many wounded?"

"Too early to know. But someone sent a message."

He handed her a scorched piece of parchment pulled from the guardhouse gate. Its edges still smoldered:

"Let the fox burn, or the kingdom will."

Her hand tightened. A mark, etched beside the message—three stars crossed by a sword. An old crest. A forgotten faction.

Meanwhile, Iris stood at the archives, staring at a door half-ajar.

Inside, two shelves had been stripped clean—documents, scrolls, gone. But something else lingered. She stepped forward, brushing ash from a marble tile.

A faint glow. A fox-rune, flickering softly in protest.

Iris whispered:

"Someone tried to erase it."

A voice behind her:

"Then we draw it again."

Alin. He stood in the doorway, lantern held high. His gaze met hers, solemn.

In the central square, where panicked citizens gathered, Selene arrived wrapped not in royal silk, but scholar's robes. Her voice was calm, amplified by enchantment:

"I will not abandon you. Nor the truth we've unearthed."

A roar of voices met her words—confused, frightened, but listening.

From the shadows, Baron Thaddeus watched her, face unreadable.

That night, in the inner gardens, she sat alone before the old fox statue, candle at its base.

Aro approached with silent steps. He sat beside her, gaze steady.

"This is only the beginning."

She nodded, then placed the scorched parchment at the foot of the statue.

"Let them come."

She met his eyes.

"But we answer with fire of our own."