The storm had followed them.
For three nights, the wind howled through the mountains as Elara and the silver-haired woman rode through rain and fog, away from Valenor and all it had stolen from her.
They never spoke much. The woman, who called herself Seris, moved like a shadow — silent, steady, and unbothered by the cold. Elara tried to ask questions, but each time she did, Seris simply said, "You'll understand soon."
By the time they reached the cliffs at the edge of the kingdom, the sky had turned a deep, bruised purple. Lightning lit the outline of a ruined tower — its peak broken, its walls crawling with ivy.
"The Tower of Silence," Seris said softly. "Once a prison for mages. Now… our sanctuary."
Elara stared up at it. The air here felt thick, humming faintly — like the earth itself was whispering secrets.
"What is this place?"
Seris gave her a sidelong look. "A place for the forgotten. For those wronged by the throne. For those who seek vengeance."
---
Inside, the tower smelled of dust, candle wax, and something older — something that didn't belong to this world. The walls were covered with symbols that glowed faintly in the torchlight, shifting like living ink.
Seris led her down a spiral staircase that seemed to sink endlessly into the earth. The deeper they went, the louder the whispers became — voices not quite human, calling her name in tones that both chilled and comforted her.
At the bottom, a vast chamber opened. A single figure stood in the center, wrapped in dark robes. The hood hid his face entirely.
"Elara Vayne," the figure said, his voice ancient and deep, echoing off the stone. "You have tasted betrayal. You have been marked by the flame. Do you seek revenge?"
Elara hesitated. She felt the old pain rise in her throat — Darius's cold eyes, Merek's smirk, the sound of the court condemning her.
"Yes," she whispered. "I want them to pay."
The figure nodded slowly. "Then you must become more than what you are. The power in your veins hungers — but it must be fed. Are you willing to give up your name, your past, your mercy?"
Her breath trembled. "If that's what it takes."
"Then kneel."
---
Elara sank to her knees. The air grew heavy as the robed figure raised his hand. A black sigil began to glow beneath her, spreading in a perfect circle. The whispers grew louder, overlapping into a chorus.
"From pain, power," the voices chanted. "From loss, strength. From death… rebirth."
A shadow peeled itself from the figure's robe — twisting, coiling, reaching for her. It touched her chest, and agony seared through her body. Her scream echoed through the tower, shaking dust from the ceiling.
Her veins glowed like molten gold turned to ash. The black flame reawakened inside her, burning brighter this time.
Through the pain, she saw flashes —
Darius's face contorted in fear.
Merek's death.
A crown shattered.
A kingdom on fire.
Then, silence.
When the light faded, she collapsed, gasping. The sigil on the floor burned faintly beneath her.
The hooded figure spoke again. "Rise, Thorn-Blooded. The power of the Veiled Circle is yours."
Elara stood slowly, her body trembling but alive — stronger than before. Her reflection in a pool of water nearby caught her eye — her once-green eyes now shimmered with threads of silver.
"What… have you done to me?" she whispered.
Seris smiled faintly. "We've given you what the world denied you — justice. You will learn to wield it."
The robed figure stepped closer. "But remember this, child: every act of vengeance feeds the flame. Use it too often, and it will consume what's left of your heart."
Elara met his hidden gaze, her expression calm but fierce.
"Then I'll burn," she said. "So long as they burn with me."
---
Later that night, as the others slept, Elara climbed to the top of the ruined tower. The storm had passed, leaving only mist and moonlight.
Below her stretched the endless dark of the forest — beyond it, the faint glow of Valenor's distant fires.
She touched the ring on her finger, the last piece of Darius she still carried.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"You took everything from me," she said. "Now I'll take everything from you."
As she spoke, the black flame flickered to life in her palm — calm, controlled, waiting.
And somewhere in the distance, though she couldn't hear it, the bells of Valenor rang again…
as if the kingdom already sensed the storm that was coming.