The journey back from the Crystal Caves should have felt like triumph. The Second Seal had awakened, and the ancient guardian Solen had passed the mantle of their legacy to me. But victory felt hollow as the scent of smoke reached us before the valley came into view.
We emerged from the mountain trails just after dawn, expecting to see the sun rising peacefully over the valley fields.
Instead, the sky was veiled in a thick gray haze. Smoke dense and unmistakable rose in dark pillars. The clouds above looked sickly, tainted by ash and fire.
Lucian pulled his mount to a sharp stop at the ridge. His keen eyes scanned the horizon.
"That's not campfire smoke," he said grimly.
Kieran, already pulling his spyglass, cursed softly. "No. That's destruction. Three no, four fires. Southern ridge. He's already here."
Malrik.
I didn't need a name to feel the threat. The Flame inside me recoiled and burned, not in victory this time, but in dread. I could feel the wrongness in the air. It was not just fire. It was corruption, spilling from the wounds Malrik's monsters carved into our homeland.
Lira's horse shifted beneath her, sensing her rider's tension. She leaned forward, face pale, fingers white-knuckled around the reins.
"We have to get back. Now."
None of us argued. We rode hard, thundering down the rocky pass, through thinning woods, and across the frost-hardened fields. Each mile brought more signs of retreat. Abandoned carts lay tipped in the road. Blood splashed against tree trunks. Sacks of grain torn apart by wild beasts or desperate hands.
By the time we reached the outer village gates, the once serene valley had transformed.
What had been the heart of Moonborn unity now looked like a city on the brink of collapse.
Villagers were being evacuated into underground shelters. The elderly were wheeled on carts. Children were clutched tightly by worried mothers. Warriors sharpened blades and reinforced wooden barricades. The smith's anvil rang constantly, echoing like a war drum.
A heavy fog of fear settled over everything.
We dismounted at the central gates, where Elder Vira waited beneath the war banner. Her long robes were smeared with soot, her braid unkempt. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days and had aged years in our absence.
"Where in the Flame's name have you been?" she demanded, though exhaustion muted her anger.
"We found the second seal," I said breathlessly. "We awakened it."
Her expression flickered. Surprise. Hope. Then anger again.
"Then you should have felt it the shift in power. Malrik felt it too. That's why he's here. His creatures hit the southern post two nights ago. There was no warning. No mercy."
I glanced at the smoldering horizon. "How many casualties?"
Vira's voice cracked slightly. "Dozens. The scouts sent out to intercept them never returned. And this morning, he sent his message."
She stepped aside, revealing a gruesome sight: a wooden pike, taller than a man, driven into the ground by the outer wall. On its tip rested a severed head one of our elite rangers. His lifeless eyes stared toward the dawn.
Lira turned away, choking on a sob.
Yven's mouth tightened in a grim line.
Lucian's hand curled into a fist. "He's trying to break us before the fight even begins."
Vira nodded. "And it's working. Half the council wants to surrender. The other half wants to burn the valley and flee. The people need a leader. They need the Flame."
I knew what she meant.
"They want me to return," I said flatly. "To use the Flame as a weapon."
"They want a symbol," she corrected. "Someone to rally behind. Someone who can make them believe we still have a chance."
But I couldn't ignore the pull the third seal was calling to me, faint and steady, like a heartbeat buried beneath the earth.
Lucian looked at me, his voice calm but intense. "So what do you choose, Aurora?"
I looked out across the valley. Saw the warriors preparing to die. The children clinging to their mothers. The elders who had watched this land be built from stone and spirit. I thought of Solen, of the weight of centuries. And of my mother, who had given her life not just for me, but for the secrets that could save us.
"I choose both," I said.
Kieran's brows rose. "You mean to split our forces?"
"It's not a perfect solution. But if Malrik reaches the third seal before we do, the Flame won't be enough. We can't afford to stay still. If we stay, we burn with the valley. If we move, we have a chance to stop him."
Lucian stepped forward. "Then I'll stay. I'll lead the defense."
"No," Kieran said. "We both will. The people need familiar faces. And the warriors need command."
I turned to Lira, who nodded immediately. "I'm coming with you."
"And me," Yven added. "You'll need a healer. Especially if what lies ahead is worse than the Crystal Guardian."
We finalized the plan: I would lead a small team Lira, Yven, and two elite scouts, Talia and Bronn on a covert path to the east. Toward the Forgotten Vale. Toward the Third Seal.
As I strapped on my gear, Lucian approached, his expression unreadable. In his hand, he held a pendant an oval moonstone wrapped in silver, glowing faintly under the torchlight.
"My mother wore this the day she was killed defending the border," he said. "It protected her long enough to save a village. Now I want it to protect you."
"I can't take this"
"You can. And you will."
He pressed the pendant into my palm. "Just promise me you'll return."
"I will," I said.
He leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to my brow. "Then go light the way, Flamebearer."
We left under cover of moonlight.
The valley burned behind us. Fire pits lit the borders, meant to disorient Malrik's monsters and conceal our escape. The southern sky pulsed with red the glow of an army moving like a tidal wave.
As we slipped into the deep forest pass, the ancient trees closed around us, their gnarled limbs whispering warnings no one else could hear.
I took one last look behind me.
To the valley. My home.
And I whispered a silent vow.
I will return. With the seal. With the truth. With fire enough to burn away the darkness.