---
Chapter Four: Shadows Over Velmire
The dawn bled through the canopy like a slow wound, spilling pale gold across the forest floor. Evelyne stood at the edge of the clearing, eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of Velmire's crumbling walls. Behind her, Kael packed their few belongings, the weight of their journey already etched into his weathered face.
The night had been restless. The dragon's mark burned fiercely beneath her skin, as if trying to claw its way free, but the nightmare had passed — for now. Yet Evelyne felt the chill of the forest's watchful gaze, as if unseen eyes waited in the shadows to pounce.
"We can't stay here," Kael muttered, slinging his sword across his back. "Lucien's spies roam the land. Word of your awakening will spread like wildfire."
Evelyne's breath caught. Lucien. The prince who promised power but carried the poison of a serpent. She hated the thought of him watching, waiting to twist her fate into his own cruel design.
"What's the plan?" she asked, voice steady despite the storm of fear inside.
Kael's gray eyes scanned the horizon. "First, we return to Velmire. You must face your past, and the court that condemned your mother. It's dangerous, but you need allies — and the throne's influence still holds sway."
Evelyne swallowed. Returning meant walking back into a nest of vipers. But running had only brought pain so far.
She nodded. "Then we face it."
---
The Road Back
Their journey to Velmire was cloaked in uneasy silence. The forest seemed to close around them, branches twisting like skeletal fingers, and the air thick with an unnatural stillness.
Kael rode beside her, ever vigilant. "The kingdom is fractured," he said quietly. "The warlord's death left a power vacuum. Noble houses vie for control, and the people suffer."
Evelyne gripped the reins tighter. "What of the prophecy? Does it still matter?"
Kael's lips tightened. "Prophecies are riddles wrapped in shadows. But if you're the skyborn, as the seers say, your destiny will change everything — or destroy it."
Her eyes burned with quiet determination. "Then I will choose how that story ends."
---
Velmire's Court: A House of Serpents
Velmire rose like a dark fortress against the afternoon sky, its stone walls scarred by siege and neglect. The streets buzzed with whispers and wary glances as Evelyne and Kael slipped through the city gates, their presence drawing more than one suspicious eye.
Inside the great hall, torchlight flickered against tapestries stained with blood and betrayal. Lords and ladies clustered in corners, their voices low and sharp like daggers.
At the throne sat Regent Marcellus Duvant, a man whose smile never reached his eyes. His hands rested on the armrests, long fingers curled like claws.
"Evelyne," he greeted, his tone heavy with false warmth. "The prodigal daughter returns. To what do we owe this unexpected honor?"
Kael stepped forward, voice like iron. "We come with news, and a warning. The north stirs with shadows, and the skyborn blood awakens. You would do well to listen."
The court murmured. Marcellus's gaze sharpened. "You speak of legends and ghosts. What proof have you, Kael?"
Evelyne felt the weight of every gaze in the hall. She could lie. She could hide her power. But that would make her weak.
She lifted her hand, and a single silver flame flickered above her palm, casting eerie light across the chamber.
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
Marcellus's smile vanished. "Sorcery. You bring the curse of your mother back into these halls."
---
Old Wounds, New Alliances
After the council's collapse into heated accusations and threats, Evelyne found herself alone in the cold stone corridor, the echoes of betrayal ringing in her ears.
Kael joined her, his presence a steady anchor.
"You made your mark," he said quietly. "But you've painted a target on your back."
Evelyne's eyes glimmered with stubborn fire. "Then I'll burn brighter."
Footsteps echoed behind them. A slender figure emerged from the shadows — Lady Seraphine, a noblewoman with sharp eyes and a reputation for ruthless cunning.
"You wield power recklessly, child," Seraphine said, voice dripping with both disdain and intrigue. "But the realm is shifting. Perhaps… you are the wild card we need."
Kael's hand moved to his sword, but Evelyne raised a calm hand. "Speak."
Seraphine's smile was a blade. "There are others like you. Others who carry the blood of the skyborn. We must find them before Lucien's forces do."
Evelyne felt the weight of hope settle like a spark. "Then we find them. Together."
---
Secrets Beneath the City
That night, beneath Velmire's streets, Seraphine led Evelyne and Kael through twisting tunnels and forgotten crypts. The air was thick with dust and memories.
In the dim glow of lanterns, Evelyne saw the hidden faces of the realm's forgotten: rebels, exiles, and those touched by the ancient magics. Whispers of old alliances and lost prophecies wove through the shadows.
An elder stepped forward — a wizened man named Thalen, keeper of the old lore. His eyes, clouded with age, pierced Evelyne's soul.
"You carry the fire of the dragons," he said solemnly. "But fire without control consumes all. You must master the flame within, or be consumed."
Evelyne nodded, feeling the enormity of her burden deepen.
---
The Price of Power
Days turned to weeks as Evelyne's training intensified. She learned to wield the silver flame with precision, channeling it into weapons of light and shields of shadow. Kael taught her swordplay, each strike a lesson in discipline and survival.
But power demanded sacrifice.
One evening, as she practiced alone in the courtyard, a shadow detached itself from the darkness. It was Lucien — his smile colder than the grave.
"You grow strong, Evelyne," he said, voice silk and steel. "Stronger than I anticipated."
She faced him without fear. "Your reign is over, Lucien."
He laughed, a sound without joy. "Reign? No. I seek only balance. The realm needs order."
"Your order is chains and blood," Evelyne spat back.
Lucien's eyes gleamed dangerously. "Then perhaps we are not so different. The dragon's fire burns within us both."
Before she could react, he vanished — leaving only the bitter scent of smoke.
---
The Gathering Storm
The city bristled with tension as rumors of Evelyne's return spread. Allies emerged from the shadows, each with their own secrets and agendas.
Lady Seraphine revealed a hidden cache of enchanted weapons, forged in dragonfire. Thalen summoned ancient spirits to guide their path. Kael's loyalty never wavered, a steadfast shield against the coming storm.
Yet Evelyne knew the true battle lay beyond the walls — in the frozen north where the darkness whispered promises of ruin and rebirth.
Standing atop the ramparts, she gazed toward the horizon, where the first tendrils of an unnatural storm churned beneath blood-red skies.
The prophecy was unfolding.
And Evelyne, the skyborn flame, was at its heart.
------