The Prince’s Wrath

"You can bury a prophecy.

You cannot bury a fire once it chooses air."

Location: Imperial Throne Hall, Capital City of Lysarian

The room was carved from moonstone, enchanted to amplify every word spoken.

So when Prince Kaelen shouted,

it echoed like thunder across the empire.

"He danced in my court.

Spoke treason in my name.

And vanished in front of every noble in the Five Realms."

He stood before the Council of Ash the Veil's most elite enforcers.

Six figures, faceless. Robed in smoke. Eyes like dying stars.

"Bring me his heart," Kaelen snarled.

"Bring me his name burned off every tongue.

And bring me her, too."

He threw a dagger across the hall it landed in a portrait of Seren.

Meanwhile – Seren's Quarters, Nirael Academy

Seren sat alone.

The mirror before her shimmered with the command from the capital:

"Return immediately.

Explain your failure.

Cleanse your loyalty."

But she didn't move.

Her fingers traced the flame sigil Aelios had burned into the air.

She remembered his hand in hers.

His words.

That look not of vengeance, but of truth denied for too long.

She opened a hidden drawer.

Inside:

A note. Written in her own hand… but one she didn't remember writing.

"When the fire returns, don't forget who you were before they shaped you."

In the Wild North Aelios on the Move

Aelios ran under a storm-lit sky, cloak torn, the Codex in his satchel, his path unclear.

"They know now," he whispered.

"Good. Let them come."

But he was not alone.

From the shadows, three assassins approached silent, fast, wielding ashsteel curved like crescents.

The Ash Seekers.

Battle in the Ice Ravine

Aelios skidded across ice, ducked a blade, flung fire to the sky.

Too slow.

One Seeker cut his side shallow, but clean.

"You bleed like a boy," hissed the tallest.

"Not like a king."

Aelios smiled through the pain.

"Then you've never met a real king."

He roared and the Codex awoke.

Symbols flew from the book.

Climbed his arm.

Formed armor of flame and memory.

With one swing, he broke the first Seeker's mask.

Inside:

Not a man.

A withered soul, chained to fire not their own.

"They enslave even their shadows now?" Aelios whispered.

He didn't kill the Seeker.

He let them fall, screaming free for the first time in decades.

The other two fled.

New Character Enters: Lady Virelya of House Ashwinter

As Aelios collapsed under a snow-laced pine, a hand caught him before he hit the ground.

Soft. Gloved.

Deadly.

"You burn too hot," said a voice like frost and honey.

"But you're not ready to die yet."

He looked up and saw Virelya.

Hair like stormclouds.

Eyes like ink spilled on snow.

A noble but cast out.

Feared for her curse: the ability to unmake magic.

"Why help me?" he asked.

"Because I want to watch the empire burn from the front row.

And you, dear flameboy, are holding the match."