Morning sunlight streamed through the crystal windows of Schiera's palace, scattering soft gold across marble floors. The world looked peaceful, but peace was a fragile illusion.
Jack sat by the window, examining the faint glow beneath his skin — the golden mark that pulsed softly on his hand. It was quieter now, but alive, like a sleeping ember.
He heard a knock."Jack? May I come in?"
Princess Lyra entered with a tray of tea. Even without her crown, she carried the air of royalty — calm, gentle, but unmistakably strong.
"You've been awake since dawn," she said.
Jack shrugged. "Kind of hard to sleep when your hand turns into a lightbulb every few hours."
That earned a small laugh from her. "You're handling this better than most would."
"'Most' don't get sucked into a book and wake up in a medieval kingdom."
She smiled faintly, then gestured toward his glowing mark. "The crest of Schiera. It appeared last night when you released Light magic."
He raised his brow. "So… I accidentally stole your kingdom's power?"
"Not stole," she corrected gently. "You absorbed it. Somehow, the Vein of Light responded to your presence."
Jack frowned. "Can people normally do that here?"
"No. Each person's body can attune to only one Vein of Origin — Light, Fire, Water, and so on. But you..." She studied him closely. "You carry something beyond the Twelve. You might be what our scholars once called a Conduit."
He leaned back. "So, what — I'm some kind of magical USB port?"
Lyra blinked. "I don't know what that is, but yes, perhaps."
They both laughed quietly, the tension easing — but only for a moment. Lyra's expression darkened again. "Jack, this ability could change everything. Or destroy everything."
He caught the tone. "You sound like you know that from experience."
She hesitated, her hand trembling slightly. For an instant, faint golden runes flared under her skin before vanishing. "Sometimes… even light burns."
He frowned. "Lyra—"
But a knock at the door cut him off."Your Highness," came a stern voice — Sir Kael Draven. "The Council of Lumens awaits. There's news."
The Council of Lumens
The council hall glittered with crystal chandeliers and sunlight pouring through stained glass. Yet the atmosphere was heavy, tense.Nobles, scholars, and guards stood in silence as Kael placed a scroll on the table before the princess.
"This," he said, unrolling it, "was recovered from the royal terrace where His Majesty and the Queen were slain."
He set down several blackened shards — faintly glowing with crimson veins.
Jack felt the heat even from where he stood. "That's not normal stone, is it?"
Kael shook his head. "It's Varkonian forge residue — a byproduct of Fire Vein magic. No other kingdom's element leaves this trace."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
One noble cried, "So it was Varkon! The Fire King seeks war!"
Another countered, "We must retaliate before they strike first!"
Lyra raised her hand, silencing them. "We will not accuse another kingdom based on fragments."
Kael frowned. "With respect, Your Highness, if we do nothing, the people will demand blood."
Jack stepped forward before thinking. "Then let's find proof."
The hall turned to him.
Lyra met his eyes, calm but resolute. "You suggest we go to Varkon ourselves?"
He nodded. "If the evidence came from there, we'll get answers straight from the source."
A murmur spread — disbelief mixed with curiosity.
Kael's jaw tightened. "If this is your will, then I will accompany you."
Lyra turned to the council. "Prepare a small escort. We depart at dawn."
And so it was decided — the Princess of Light would walk into the Kingdom of Fire.
The next morning, the courtyard brimmed with muted tension. Soldiers bowed, citizens watched silently, and the convoy stood ready.
Jack adjusted his cloak, glancing at the crowd. "They really don't like me."
Lyra smiled faintly. "They will, once we return."
Kael mounted his horse. "If we return."
The great gates of Schiera opened, runes gleaming faintly across their golden frame. As the carriage rolled forward, Jack looked back at the shining city. The twin suns reflected off its towers like light caught in crystal.
He didn't know it yet, but that view — perfect and untouched — would soon become a memory.
The Serpent Pass wound between cliffs and forests that shimmered faintly at night. Jack often rode beside Lyra in the carriage, listening as she described each kingdom of Fonterra — her voice carrying both pride and sadness.
When they stopped to rest by a river, she sat quietly, gazing at her reflection in the water. Her fingers glowed faintly with golden light, but then dimmed again, fading faster than before.
Jack noticed. "Your magic's fading again, isn't it?"
Lyra didn't look up. "The Vein of Light weakens with distance from Schiera. It's… nothing to worry about."
But he saw her eyes tighten with pain — and something else. Fear.
By the seventh day, the green of Schiera gave way to black soil and heat. Smoke curled from cracks in the earth, and the horizon pulsed red.
Kael stopped his horse. "From here on, we travel light. The Fire Kingdom is no friend to spies."
Jack stepped out, sweat instantly coating his skin. "And here I was thinking I'd miss summer."
Lyra shielded her eyes. "That's the border — the Blazing Line."
Across the valley stood Varkon, a kingdom carved from molten rock. Towers of obsidian glowed faintly, and dragons circled the distant skies.
Jack's hand burned suddenly. The mark on his palm flared crimson for an instant.
Lyra gasped. "Your mark… it's reacting again!"
He winced. "Feels like it's trying to set my hand on fire!"
She took his wrist, her light flickering as she steadied him. "The Fire Vein senses you. It's responding to your Arc."
Then her eyes widened — gold swirling in her irises — and she stumbled. Jack caught her before she fell.
"Lyra!"
She exhaled shakily. "I'm fine. The Light Vein… doesn't coexist peacefully with Fire. That's all."
But when he looked down, faint runes glimmered beneath her skin again — the same pattern as his.
Something tied them together, though neither could explain it.
That night, they camped near the volcanic ridge. The horizon burned orange beneath a black sky.
Jack sat beside the fire, unable to sleep. "You're hiding something," he said quietly.
Lyra's gaze stayed on the distant glow. "Sometimes, the light we carry is heavier than darkness itself."
He frowned. "Then I'll help you carry it."
She smiled sadly. "Careful, Jack. In Fonterra, even kindness has a cost."
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of ash. The fire crackled low.Somewhere beyond the ridge, molten rivers glowed — and deep within the land, the Fire Vein pulsed, waiting.
The road to Varkon had begun, and both light and flame were about to test their hearts.