Chapter 13 – The Thorn’s Price

The wind howled through the broken halls of Vael'Shan as Seren stepped out of the throne circle. Smoke still curled from her fingertips. The fire that had nearly consumed her now slept quietly in her veins, but it was not gone. No — it was watching.

Nyara approached slowly. Her sharp eyes were more cautious than ever. "What did you see in there?"

Seren didn't answer at first. She turned to where the mirror had been — now just black dust on scorched stone.

"I saw what I might become," she said at last. "And what I have to do to stop it."

Kael crossed his arms. "And that is?"

Seren raised her eyes, steady and sure.

"Unite the broken kingdoms. Vampires. Dragons. Humans. The war ends with me."

Kael's silence was heavy. Nyara let out a short, dark laugh. "That's a pretty crown-shaped dream, girl."

Seren's lips tightened. "Then I'll bleed for it."

---

They left Vael'Shan before sunrise.

The land ahead was not mapped — the Deadreach, where the great vampire kings once ruled before they vanished into shadow. But it was there, Seren knew, that the next piece of her path awaited.

And someone was already waiting.

They were barely two days in when the snow began to fall — black snow, cold as blades. The trees twisted into skeletal shapes, and the mist thickened with every step. Even the flame in Seren's chest began to flicker.

"Something's wrong," Kael muttered. "I feel watched."

"We are watched," Nyara said grimly, touching the hilt of her curved dagger. "Something ancient."

Then the mist parted.

And a figure stood in their path.

He was tall — impossibly so — with hair like moonlight and skin as pale as frost. His eyes were not red like other vampires, but silver, glowing with something colder than rage.

"Seren of the Emberlands," he said, voice like ice cracking on stone. "Daughter of fire. Blood-bound heir of ruin."

Kael stepped forward, blade drawn. "Who are you?"

"I am Vireon," the vampire said. "Last King of the Frozen Court. Keeper of the Seventh Blood Oath. And I have come to see if you are worthy of the crown you seek."

Nyara bristled. "We didn't ask for your approval, corpse."

But Seren lifted a hand. "I'll face him."

Kael turned sharply. "Seren—"

"He's not here to fight," she said. "Not yet."

Vireon smiled faintly. "She understands the old ways. Good."

He turned… and began walking into the forest.

"Come, girl of flame. Let me show you what power demands."

---

They followed him for hours, through black snow and silent woods. No birds. No beasts. Just memories.

He led them to a clearing where stones stood like teeth in a circle — an old blood arena, where vampire lords once challenged rulers for dominance.

"This is where I burned my father," Vireon said. "And where I died."

Seren frowned. "You're still alive."

"No," he said. "I survived."

He turned to face her. "Now you will too."

Suddenly, mist closed around her — thick and silver, pulling her away from Kael and Nyara. When it cleared, she stood alone in the arena.

The sky was red. The snow was gone.

And across from her stood… herself.

Or almost.

This version wore a gown of bone and fire. Her hair flowed like blood, and her crown was made of screaming faces.

"You think you can change fate?" the doppelgänger said. "You are fire. And fire destroys."

Seren raised her hand. "Not anymore."

The other Seren smiled cruelly. "Then show me."

They clashed.

Magic exploded. Fire met fire. Shadows writhed and howled.

Seren fought not with rage, but with memory — of her mother's voice, of the boy who saved her from the gallows, of Kael's sword drawn in her defense, of Nyara's laughter in the dark.

These were her weapons.

Not just flame.

Hope.

The false Seren screamed and burst into sparks.

The mist cleared.

And Vireon stood beside her, nodding slowly.

"You are not the queen I once knew," he said. "You are more dangerous."

He opened his palm — and a sliver of blood-red crystal floated above it.

"The fourth key," he said. "Not an object. A choice. And you made it."

Seren took the crystal.

The second it touched her skin, the other keys flared.

For a moment, she saw them all — the flames, the whispers, the dragons sleeping under ash, the vampires watching from ancient halls.

And above it all… the Thorned Crown, suspended in a storm of fire and ice.

Waiting.

"I will not be her," Seren whispered.

"No," Vireon said. "You'll be worse. Or better. That's your burden now."

He vanished with the snow.

---

Back with Kael and Nyara, Seren said nothing. But her flame was brighter. Her eyes deeper. Something had shifted.

"You've changed," Kael said.

"I chose to," she replied.

And in the wind, a voice echoed:

Only those who suffer can rule with mercy.

And Seren would suffer.

But she would rise.