Md_Alamin_1251

Three hundred years ago, Princess Mira Elowen was burned at the stake—accused of witchcraft, cursed blood, and defying the royal order. But as the flames devoured her body, she made a chilling vow:

"I shall return—not as your princess, but as your reckoning."

Now, in a quiet village far from the capital, a healer’s apprentice named Eira begins to have terrifying dreams of fire, betrayal, and blood-soaked crowns. Her golden eyes, once ordinary, now burn with memories she doesn’t recognize. And when a dying priest calls her "Your Highness", her world begins to unravel.

Reborn in a new body, Mira must navigate a kingdom that has forgotten her—but her vengeance is not forgotten. With ancient enemies in power, buried secrets resurfacing, and a mysterious prince who may be her greatest enemy or her only salvation, she must reclaim what was stolen from her...

Rise OF THE Cursed Queen

Stone cracked under the weight of armored boots as the Shadowguard descended, their eyes glowing like embers, weapons drawn, faces hidden beneath horned helms.

Caius drew his sword in a flash. It gleamed silver in the firelight, etched with old runes meant to cut through spellwork.

Eira stood still — calm, centered — like the eye of a storm.

One of the Shadowguard raised a hand. "By order of the Crown, surrender the girl."

Caius stepped forward. "She's not the girl. She's the rightful heir. The flame reborn."

The guard's sword rose. "Then she dies tonight."

Caius blocked the first blow with ease, twisting, countering with a low strike that knocked one to the ground. Another lunged at Eira — and met a wall of fire erupting from her palm.

The flames curled around her like a serpent, waiting for her command.

She was no longer afraid of the fire.

Eira whispered an incantation under her breath, her voice old as the vault walls.

> "Ardentia flamora… Ignis regnum rise."

Fire spiraled from her fingers, not wild, but shaped — controlled. It slammed into two guards, their enchanted armor sparking, breaking. One screamed as flame etched itself into his soul.

Caius leapt to her side, breathing hard. "You're remembering, aren't you?"

She nodded once. "Not enough. But it's coming back."

"Good," he said. "Because here comes the commander."

From the shadows emerged a towering figure, twice the size of the others. His armor was blood-red, and his sword pulsed with black flame.

The name rang in Eira's head like thunder. She remembered him now.

"You don't remember me," she said coldly. "But I remember your laugh. I remember your voice as you sentenced me."

His eyes narrowed. "The cursed witch speaks boldly."

She stepped forward. "Not a witch. Not cursed. Queen."

The Phoenix Crest on the floor blazed. All fire in the vault rushed to her, spiraling, forming wings of flame that burst from her back.

Caius shielded his eyes. The guards fell back in terror.

She walked through the fire, untouched, her voice ringing with power.

> "By the blood I shed, by the name I lost, by the throne denied to me—

A great column of fire surged through the vault, swallowing Varek whole. He screamed — not just in pain, but in fear. His armor cracked, shattered, and his body collapsed in a pile of ash.

The rest of the Shadowguard vanished into shadow, retreating.

Eira dropped to her knees, breath ragged. The flames faded. The wings disappeared.

Caius rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulders. "You did it. Gods… You are her."

She looked up at him, face pale. "I'm not sure what I am anymore."

He held her close. "You're alive. That's all that matters."

But then… footsteps echoed through the tunnel.

A figure limped into the vault — cloaked, hooded, barely breathing.

The figure collapsed to the floor, revealing her face.

"Maerin!" she cried, running forward.

The old healer looked up with glassy eyes. Blood trickled from her mouth. "They… they came for you. I tried to stop

Eira clutched her tightly. "Who? Who came?"

Maerin whispered a single word before losing consciousness:

Fire in Her Blood