Theme: Secrets unravel, and trust becomes a weapon.
The throne room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Queen Lysara stood alone before a shattered stained-glass window, watching crows circle above the dark towers. Her silver veil shimmered like a blade in moonlight, her fingers tight around a crystal goblet filled with something far too red to be wine.
A shadow stepped beside her Viper, as always, uninvited yet expected.
"She's crossed the threshold," he said. "The girl no longer fears the fire."
Lysara didn't blink. "And the wolf?"
"He's worse. Now he believes he has a purpose." Viper smiled thinly. "Dangerous things, purpose and love."
She set the goblet down.
"I gave her that fire," she said quietly. "I made that deal… to protect her."
"Did you?" Viper asked. "Or did you make it to protect your throne?"
Lysara turned on him, veil slipping just enough to show the scar beneath her left eye — an old one, too clean to be from battle. "Don't test me, Viper."
He tilted his head, almost playful. "I already did. Eighteen years ago. You passed. Barely."
Meanwhile…
Vivi sat with Haken at the edge of the broken void, now slowly mending around them like scarred fabric.
Their powers had settled for now but the silence between them was heavy.
"I saw her," Vivi whispered.
Haken looked over.
"My mother. Not in memory. Not in dream. In that place. She made a deal… with him."
Haken didn't speak. He let her unravel the knots herself.
"She told me I was born under a blessing. But it was a curse. That priestess" She paused, eyes narrowing. "She warned my parents. 'Beauty like hers will break the world.' And they tried to use that."
"You're not a weapon," Haken said.
"I don't know what I am anymore."
"You're mine," he said softly. "You're you. And if that breaks the world…" He leaned closer. "Then we'll build a better one from the ashes."
Back in the castle…
The Queen stood before a hidden mirror deep in the catacombs — one etched with runes older than the empire.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward.
A hooded child. No more than ten.
With Viper's eyes.
The Queen whispered, "Is the vessel ready?"
The child spoke in a voice far too ancient: "The flame will rise. And when it does… your daughter will either kneel—or burn."