Elaria woke before dawn, heart racing from a dream she couldn't hold onto. Just fragments—smoke, a battlefield, Kael bleeding beneath a red sky.
She sat up, and found him already awake, standing at the edge of the cliff. His cloak fluttered in the wind, his sword resting at his side.
"We're being followed," he said without turning.
"How do you know?"
"I can feel them. Three riders. Light magic. They're from the Sun Throne."
Elaria stood. "They'll try to take me back."
"They'll try to kill you," Kael corrected. "You're no longer hidden. You're a threat."
Her fingers brushed the hilt of her blade. "Then let them come."
They didn't wait long.
By mid-morning, the first arrow flew.
Kael moved like a storm—silent, fast, lethal. Elaria fought beside him, the cursed blade responding to her thoughts, glowing with violet fire.
The riders were skilled, but not prepared for what she had become.
When the fight ended, one rider still breathed. A young woman, bloodied, broken, and afraid.
"Please," she whispered, looking up at Elaria. "They told us you were a monster. That you'd destroy the realm if we let you live."
Elaria's chest tightened. "And you believed them?"
"We didn't question the Queen…"
Kael stepped forward. "That's why she wins. Because no one questions her."
The rider fainted.
Elaria turned to Kael, breathing hard. "They're going to keep coming, aren't they?"
He nodded. "Until you take the throne that was stolen from you."
Elaria looked down at her blade, still burning faintly in her hand.
She wasn't running anymore.
She was rising.