Clara's POV
The fire reached before the news did.Aether fire wasn't like the flames we knew—it didn't burn red or orange. It blazed violet, streaked with silver, like magic made fury. And when I saw it rising from the Obsidian Range just past dawn, I knew.
Something had gone wrong.
The council scrambled as whispers raced faster than orders. Panic twisted through the halls like smoke. But I didn't run. I didn't scream. I just stood at the high window in the war tower, one hand braced against the stone, and watched the mountain bleed light.
"They're not dead," I told myself.
But the Aether doesn't spare lightly. And I had sent them there.
Kira stormed into the room, cloak flying behind her. "We lost contact an hour ago. The last signal was Hale's—two flares. Then nothing."
Two flares meant mission success.
But nothing meant loss.
"How long until your scouts reach the perimeter?" I asked.
"Too long," she snapped. "And even then, they won't cross the ravine without orders."
"You have them now," I said. "Send your best. If there's even a chance someone made it out—"
A knock. Urgent. Sora's second-in-command, a wiry woman named Fen, entered, breathless.
"Your Majesty. There's someone at the eastern gate."
My heart leapt.
"Who?" Kira asked.
"She won't give her name. But she's wounded. Burned. And she asked for you."
I didn't wait for more. I was already moving, boots echoing down the stone corridors, cloak dragging behind me like a second shadow.
The woman was slumped against the gate post when I arrived, blood crusted on her brow, her armor scorched. But even beneath the soot and pain, I recognized her.
Sora.
She looked up as I approached, and the eyes that met mine were wrong.
Not broken.
Changed.
"Sora," I breathed, falling to my knees beside her. "Where are the others?"
She opened her mouth. But the voice that came out wasn't hers.
"They fell," she said, slow and strange. "But not all of them burned."
I stiffened.
"Sora, what did you touch?"
She blinked—and for a second, I saw it. The flicker of violet light beneath her skin. Not fire. Not magic.
Aether.
It had marked her.
"I held the cradle," she whispered. "It showed me… what comes next."
My stomach turned cold.
"What comes next?"
"Your rise," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. "And his fall."
"Ryker?" I choked.
But Sora's body gave out before she could answer. She collapsed into my arms, and I screamed for healers, for guards, for anyone.
I didn't sleep that night. I sat beside her, watching the tremors in her hands, the flickers of light that pulsed beneath her skin.
If the Aether had touched her… then it had touched them all.
And Ryker—gods, Ryker—
I clenched my fists, fury rising.
Dorian wanted to play in shadows?
Then I'd give him light so blinding, he'd beg for darkness again.
Let the kingdom whisper about the Queen who burned.
Because I was done waiting.
And vengeance—like flame—spread fastest when fanned by grief.
The council chamber burned with silence when I entered—no fire, no torches, just the cold gaze of marble-eyed leaders waiting for a queen's command. They saw the ash on my cloak, the fury in my eyes. None dared speak first.
Kira was already there, standing near the war table, her arms crossed, her face tight.
"She's alive," I said, my voice hard. "Sora made it back. But Ryker and Hale are still missing."
One of the elders opened his mouth. I didn't let him speak.
"We no longer have the luxury of caution. Dorian has gone too far."
A shuffle of unease moved through them. One spoke—Lord Marrow, old and brittle and too used to council chambers instead of battlefields.
"You mean to retaliate, Your Majesty?"
"No," I said, stepping forward. "I mean to end him."
I slammed my palm on the war table, lighting up the center rune—a map flared to life in silver light, revealing the fractures in our territory, the scars left by Dorian's silent war.
"He used the Obsidian tunnels. Broke through the eastern wardlines last week. I suspect he knew about the cradle. He wanted it detonated. Maybe even corrupted."
Kira swore under her breath. "He sacrificed his own forward camp to awaken it."
"He knew I'd send Ryker," I said softly. "He wanted him caught in the fire."
I let the silence stretch. Then I looked up and met every eye in that chamber.
"He failed."
Sora's survival proved one thing—the Aether hadn't consumed them all. There was still a chance.
"I will lead the next strike," I continued. "We'll move in three days—under cover of the moon's eclipse. While his lieutenants squabble over the crater we left him, we'll drive a blade into the heart of his command."
Lord Marrow sputtered. "With respect, Your Majesty, you are the heart of this kingdom. If you fall—"
"Then let the kingdom rise in my name," I snapped. "But I won't sit behind walls while others bleed for me. I was chosen by the Moon. Not to reign from a throne. To fight."
Kira gave a slow, wicked grin. "Then it's war."
I nodded once. "Gather your Whisperfangs. I want eyes on every road and talon in every shadow. When we move, we strike with precision."
As the chamber broke into motion—orders flying, plans forming—I turned from them all.
Only Kira followed.
"You're afraid," she said quietly.
I didn't answer.
"You think he's dead," she added.
"I know he's not," I whispered. "Because if he were, I'd feel it. The bond… it's stretched. Faint. But it's there."
She studied me, then nodded. "Good. Because if Ryker's still breathing, we're going to raise hell to bring him home."
I didn't reply.
Because I wasn't just going to bring him home.
I was going to burn the path there in fire and bone.
Let Dorian gather his shadows.
Let him play god with ancient magic.
Because this time—
The Queen wasn't coming to negotiate.
She was coming to conquer."He failed."
Sora's survival proved one thing—the Aether hadn't consumed them all. There was still a chance.
"I will lead the next strike," I continued. "We'll move in three days—under cover of the moon's eclipse. While his lieutenants squabble over the crater we left him, we'll drive a blade into the heart of his command."
Lord Marrow sputtered. "With respect, Your Majesty, you are the heart of this kingdom. If you fall—"
"Then let the kingdom rise in my name," I snapped. "But I won't sit behind walls while others bleed for me. I was chosen by the Moon. Not to reign from a throne. To fight."
Kira gave a slow, wicked grin. "Then it's war."
I nodded once. "Gather your Whisperfangs. I want eyes on every road and talon in every shadow. When we move, we strike with precision."
As the chamber broke into motion—orders flying, plans forming—I turned from them all.
Only Kira followed.
"You're afraid," she said quietly.
I didn't answer.
"You think he's dead," she added.
"I know he's not," I whispered. "Because if he were, I'd feel it. The bond… it's stretched. Faint. But it's there."
She studied me, then nodded. "Good. Because if Ryker's still breathing, we're going to raise hell to bring him home."
I didn't reply.