For a long moment, no one in the hall dared to move.
Corvin remained kneeling before Zelene, head bowed in a vow that felt too heavy, too ancient, too absolute for the girl who still couldn't make sense of why the world kept rearranging itself around her.
Zelene swallowed, her voice small.
"Master…? No—wait—please, stand. I think there's been some misunderstanding—"
"There is no misunderstanding."
Corvin lifted his gaze, and the firelight caught in the molten gold of his eyes, making them burn like coals stirred awake.
"You are the one my ancestors swore to follow. The one the legends call the Silver Dawn. The one destined to awaken the Crimson Auryn from its long sleep."
Ray stepped forward instinctively, placing himself slightly between Corvin and Zelene.
His voice was controlled, but edged like a blade just barely sheathed.
"She isn't your master," he said quietly. "She is Lynn. That is all."
Corvin's expression did not harden — but it did sharpen, like a flame encountering wind.
"I do not claim her as property," he said. "I recognize her. As all of us were taught to. The moment the flame within me stirred, I knew."
Finn coughed loudly.
"So, uh… just to be clear…" He gestured vaguely between Corvin and Zelene. "You're saying she's basically your… boss? Or queen? Or fire messiah? Or—"
"Finn," Ray muttered.
"Sorry, sorry," Finn held up both hands. "But like—this is a lot!"
Zelene felt her cheeks warm as all eyes turned to her again.
"I'm not—" she started, voice cracking slightly.
"I'm not the Crimson Auryn. You said yourself it awakens, right? I haven't awakened anything. I don't even feel anything."
Saela, leaning slightly on her cane, stepped closer with a look both gentle and unyielding.
"My child," she murmured, "do you imagine legends arrive roaring?
No. They slip in quietly. Like a dawn no one noticed until the world was changed by its light."
Zelene shook her head. "But it can't be me. I—I'm just trying to survive. I'm not some chosen figure."
Corvin stood then — with the slow, respectful grace of someone accepting an order rather than assuming one.
He didn't reach toward her, didn't intrude on her space, but he looked at her with such reverence it felt almost overwhelming.
"Do you know," he said softly, "what the old tales say of the Crimson Auryn?"
Zelene hesitated. "…No."
"That when the world was once fractured by war and ruin, the Crimson Auryn did not begin as a warrior."
His voice gentled, warmer now.
"They began as a frightened young soul. Uncertain. Wandering. Lost."
Zelene's breath caught.
"And yet," Corvin continued, "they were still the one the flame answered."
Ray watched Corvin with narrowed eyes — not hostile, but wary.
Protective.
Possessive in that quiet, unspoken way he always was with her.
Finn, on the other hand, leaned over to whisper to Ray, not subtly at all:
"Okay but—he just knew? Like he looked at her and boom—'That's my legendary destined leader'? No offense, Lynn, but how do we know he didn't hit his head this morning?"
"Finn," Zelene whispered a mortified plea.
Corvin didn't seem offended. If anything, he smiled faintly — the ghost of amusement flickering through his features.
"No head injury," he said. "Only certainty."
Saela nodded firmly.
"The moment he laid eyes upon you, the Aureate gift recognized you. Just as it has recognized every Crimson leader across the centuries."
"Wait," Zelene murmured. "Then… the Aureate Auryn… what happened to them? After the Crimson Auryn fell into slumber?"
Saela exhaled, as though carrying the weight of many lifetimes.
"When the Crimson Auryn fell," she began, "the Aureate did not abandon the world. Instead, they chose to walk among the people. To teach. To protect. To ensure our line would survive long enough to greet the Crimson when they returned."
Zelene's voice softened. "So the Aureate… lived as one of you?"
"Yes," Saela whispered.
"And every generation after that carried a piece of their memory. A fragment of their sight. A spark of their flame."
Finn's eyes widened. "So Corvin here is like… the twenty-times-great-grandkid of the Aureate Auryn?"
Saela tilted her head. "Something like that."
Corvin did not lift his chin with pride.
Instead, he bowed it slightly, humbly.
"My blood is theirs," he said. "But my destiny…"
He looked at Zelene again, unwavering.
"…belongs to you."
Zelene stepped back, almost stumbling.
"Why?" she whispered, overwhelmed and breathless.
"Why me?"
Corvin's gaze softened — not pitying, but reverent.
"Because," he said, "the flame chose you long before either of us were born."
He crossed his fist over his heart again — the gesture of deepest loyalty among his people.
"And from this moment on, my lady, I stand at your side. Not because you asked it — but because I was born for it."
The hall grew quiet again.
Ray's jaw tightened.
Finn fidgeted.
And Zelene…
Zelene felt the world tilt just slightly, as if destiny had placed its hand upon her shoulder — not forcing her forward, merely reminding her she had begun walking a road she never meant to step upon.
But it was Corvin who finally broke the silence.
With a voice low, certain, almost reverent—
"I have been waiting for you," he said.
"And I will follow you wherever the flame leads."