Elara ran, the echoes of the broken stone's warning still rattling inside her bones. The narrow corridor twisted back upon itself, the darkness pressing in like breath on her neck. She burst through a rusted gate, feet skidding on the moss-slick floor. Her pulse hadn't settled not from the danger, but from what she'd seen, what she'd heard.
And from him.
M had guided her through secrets the Empire buried so deep even its rulers feared to speak of them. But just as she turned to ask what he meant by "the last," he vanished into the shadows like smoke. One blink, and he was gone.
"Wait—"
Her whisper echoed too loud.
The vault door slammed shut behind her, stone grinding against stone.
Silence, again.
Thick and final.
"Elara?"
She froze. That wasn't M's voice.
"Elara, is that you?"
A soft light glimmered from the corridor ahead, and a familiar figure came running Ana, with her tilted cloak, breathing hard, eyes wide.
"Ana?" Elara straightened, the adrenaline snapping to attention.
"What are you doing here?
And why are you...." she glanced around sharply "looking for someone?"
Ana hesitated, glancing behind her. "I could ask you the same."
Elara folded her arms, trying to mask her thundering heart.
"You shouldn't be down here."
"I followed the light.
" Ana's voice was softer now, uncertain.
"And I heard… something.
Like whispers.
Then I saw a figure slip through the hall."
"You saw someone?"
Ana nodded.
"I thought it was you. But taller."
Elara's breath hitched, but she covered it quickly.
"There's no one here but us."
"I'm not so sure."
The moment stretched, taut with secrets.
Ana stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Listen we need to go.
Madam Darla is tearing through the west wing looking for you, and Lady Marellia is furious.
She said the Empress has summoned you twice."
Elara stiffened. "Why?"
"I don't know.
But Marellia looked like she'd personally drag you to the spire if she could.
Hurry, now."
"I....." Elara faltered, but Ana grabbed her hand.
"There's no time.
If they find you down here, you'll wish they hadn't."
Elara hesitated one second longer, glancing back toward the shadows where M was standing few seconds away
Then she nodded and followed Ana into the dim corridor, the stone vault closing its secrets behind them.
Far above, the Empress sat in her observatory. A room of quiet dominion, where stars whispered truths only the bold dared translate. Below, the Empire roiled in silent unrest. But here? Silence. Control.
The obsidian table before her bore the miniatures of the Empire: carved castles, delicate cities, and at the center, a small figurine of a girl. Unassuming. Quiet. But the stone beneath it pulsed, soft and slow.
The Empress touched it with one gloved finger.
"Elara," she murmured.
Behind her, an advisor cleared her throat. She waited until granted a slight nod.
"Your Majesty.
The lower vaults were breached.
There was resistance, but nothing was taken."
The Empress didn't look up.
"Except certainty," she said, voice smooth as glass.
"Which is far more dangerous."
"Shall we detain the girl?"
"No."
The word sliced the room.
"She was chosen by the stone.
The moment we chain her, we lose the favor of the people… and the old powers."
She rose, silk rustling, the sound like waves against black sand.
She moved to the window, gazing down at the gardens veiled in mist.
Somewhere beneath that haze, Elara walked.
Questioned.
Changed.
"We won't cage her," she said. "We'll crown her with attention.
Smother her with care. Drown her in our love… until she cannot breathe without wondering if it's real."
The advisor's brow furrowed.
"You mean to pamper her?"
"I mean to own her," the Empress said coldly.
Let the nobles fawn.
Let the court adore. Let the city sing her name.
She returned to the table and pushed Elara's figurine forward.
"Let her be everyone's darling," she said, smiling.
"Until she forgets she was ever alone."
She paused.
Lady Marellia whose silence was rarely idle stepped forward, gaze sharpened by thought.
"And the figure?" she asked, voice low.
"The one who moved through the vault before it sealed?"
The Empress's lips thinned.
"Have the shadows track him.
Quietly."
Lady Marellia inclined her head but said nothing more.
She knew better than to ask questions the Empress chose not to answer.
The Empress raised her eyes to the heavens, where the constellations glimmered like ancient watchers.
"Let the girl play her part," she whispered.
"Let her gather her little sparks."
Because when the fire came, she would be ready.
To rule the flame or consume it.