Chapter 1: The Night The Queen Fell

The stars screamed as the citadel burned.

Queen Seraphina ran barefoot through the palace corridors, her infant daughter clutched to her chest, blood streaking her thigh and soot staining her silver gown. The flames licked at the walls behind her, devouring velvet banners bearing the royal sigil of a seven-pointed star. Smoke poured through the high arches like a mourning shroud.

The Starlight Throne had fallen.

Ashcourt, her ancestral home, was no longer a sanctuary but a pyre. The scent of blood, burned parchment, and scorched silk filled her lungs. Somewhere above, glass shattered—another tower collapsing under the weight of betrayal.

The baby cried.

Aeris Valerien. Her daughter. Her heir.

The sound wasn't ordinary. It echoed with something ancient, something laced with raw, uncontrolled magic. Every cry pulsed faint silver light from the child's skin, making Seraphina flinch as if struck.

"No," she whispered, stumbling into the side hall that led to the old war tunnels. Her back slammed against a column, breath catching. "Not yet. You were not meant to awaken yet."

But it was too late.

The magic inside Aeris had stirred, drawn out by fear, fire, and fate. The seal that had cloaked her power since birth was unraveling.

Seraphina slid down the wall, still clutching her child. Tears mixed with soot on her face.

"Your name is Aeris Valerien," she breathed. "You are the light in the dark. Born of starlight and flame. You must live, little one. You must rise."

Aeris whimpered, her glow dimming briefly.

Seraphina placed trembling fingers to the baby's brow. Ancient words spilled from her lips, the last remnants of a dying magic. A mark shimmered across Aeris's skin—seven bright points that flared and vanished into her flesh.

The sigil of sealing.

It would bury her power deep, bind it in starlight and silence, hidden until the prophecy called.

Let her forget. Let her grow free of war, of thrones, of destiny. Until the time is right.

A memory pierced her:

The day Aeris was born.

The child had come too early, in blood and agony, her first breath carrying the scent of thunder and stars. Even then, Seraphina had known. She would not live long enough to raise her. But she had vowed to protect her until her last breath.

That breath was near now.

"Your Majesty!"

The voice came sharp through the smoke. Seraphina turned her head just as Maela emerged, blade in one hand, cloak blackened, eyes wide with terror.

"Maela," she gasped, relief buckling her knees. "You're alive."

"Barely," the woman panted. "The inner gates are gone. They breached the sanctum."

Seraphina clutched Aeris tighter. "He's coming."

Maela nodded, stepping close. "Then we must go. The tunnels still hold."

"I won't make it," Seraphina said, voice thick. "But she can."

Maela froze. Her eyes dropped to the child. Her hands trembled.

"Take her," the queen said. "Please."

Maela hesitated, torn between duty and heartbreak. "You said you'd come too. You said there'd be time."

"There isn't." Seraphina smiled bitterly. "I've lied before."

A pause. Then Maela stepped forward, wrapping the child in her arms with reverence.

"You once saved my life," she whispered. "Let me return the favor."

Seraphina leaned in, kissed Aeris's head. Her daughter smelled of smoke and newborn skin. A contradiction. A promise.

"She must not know who she is," Seraphina murmured. "Not until she is ready to choose it. Tell her... tell her I burned gladly. For her."

Maela swallowed back a sob. "I will guard her with everything I am."

The stone beneath them shook. The torches flickered and died.

Then came the footsteps.

Measured. Slow. Familiar.

He stepped into view like a nightmare unfurling.

Tall. Elegant. Power curling from his shoulders like mist.

Talien.

His armor was charred, but his face untouched. Crownless, yet commanding. In another life, she might have called him friend. Even beloved.

But that man was long dead.

"Where is the child?" he asked.

Seraphina stepped between him and Maela, summoning what remained of her power. Light flickered at her fingertips.

"Far from your poison."

He tilted his head. "You always were dramatic."

She didn't answer. She couldn't. Every breath hurt.

"She carries the end of us all," he said softly. "Don't you see it? Her light completes my shadow. Together, we would be gods."

"You'll never touch her."

"You can't stop me."

"Watch me."

Seraphina turned to Maela, gaze urgent. "Go. Now."

Maela ran. No more goodbyes.

Talien raised his hand.

Seraphina lifted hers first.

Light surged—bright, blinding, final. She didn't throw it at him. She cast it skyward, into the stone.

The ceiling groaned.

Stone cracked.

And the world collapsed.

---

Maela didn't look back.

She ran through the old escape tunnels, Aeris clutched tightly, her heart shattering with every cry from the child. Above, the citadel burned. Behind, the queen she had loved like a sister lay buried beneath ash and flame.

Outside, the forest waited.

The wind shifted.

Aeris opened her eyes.

Stars flickered in them.

And though Maela could not see, the trees did.

The girl in her arms glowed.

The prophecy was not dead.

Only sleeping.

In the north, beneat

h a sky smeared with ash, a single star blinked out.

Far behind them, Talien turned his gaze toward the distant woods.

He would find her. One day.