Mirell moved swiftly through the secret tunnel beneath the palace. Her torch flickered, its weak light struggling against the heavy silence as she led Aaron down ancient stone steps—forgotten by the builders of the new kingdom.
"This tunnel was built when the Skyborn still ruled the throne," she whispered. "Your mother used it… to hide the truths they wished to erase."
Aaron followed close behind, a faint blue flame glowing softly in his palm. The darkness around them seemed alive, pulsing with memories of the past.
At last, they reached a heavy old door, sealed with cracked runes that had withstood the passage of time.
"It needs your flame," Mirell said.
Aaron stepped forward and pressed his palm against the center of the seal. The lock did not simply open—it surrendered.
---
The Chamber of Memory
The room was thick with dust, lined with crumbling scrolls and broken tomes. In the center stood a stone pedestal, atop which rested a black-bound journal.
Aaron opened it with care.
The first page held a handwritten note:
"To the one who carries what they could not destroy—
Remember, child… the flame is not power. It is memory made manifest."
—Elira Vex
He clutched the book tightly to his chest.
Mirell's voice softened to a near whisper.
"They burned her body. But not her truth."
Suddenly, the stone walls trembled overhead.
---
The Siege of the Council Hall
Screams shattered the silence.
The doors to the Council Hall burst open.
Royal guards—once sworn to protect—moved with ruthless precision.
Their captain's voice cut through the chaos.
"By decree of survival, the Council falls!"
Blades flashed in the dim light. A councilor collapsed before she could utter a word.
Frankfurt drew his sword and stepped forward, but three guards intercepted him at once.
"Where is the Skyborn boy?" one demanded, voice low and sharp.
"He sees you," Frankfurt replied coldly. "And that is enough."
---
Escape and Resolve
Aaron and Mirell slipped into a side corridor just as a masked assassin spun toward them, blade raised.
Too late.
Aaron's blue flame struck like lightning, twisting midair, slicing through metal and shadow alike.
He met Mirell's steady gaze.
"We take them down."
"Alive?" she asked.
"No," Aaron said firmly.
---
Watching from Above
Far above, in a shadowed tower, Lucien watched the flames rising from the palace below.
He turned to the figure beside him—face hidden, voice hollow.
"It begins now."
The figure nodded.
On his palm burned a mark of fire—a split crown.