In the ancient forest of Myrdan, the trees breathed magic. Their bark shimmered faintly with runes no longer taught, and their leaves whispered in a language the wind had forgotten. In the center of that sacred grove knelt a boy—barefoot, bruised, glowing faintly under the twilight sky.
Saren.
The Silver Flame.
Seren's twin.
Unseen by her for seventeen years. Lost to prophecy. Raised in silence by the forest spirits who once served their mother.
Now, the fire in his veins had awakened.
And it burned.
---
Saren opened his eyes. The statue before him—a monument to the Dragon Queen, their mother—was cracked with age, yet the eyes still glowed faintly with silver fire.
He placed a hand over his chest, where the mark of the twin flame had appeared. It throbbed now, echoing Seren's power.
"She's awakened," he murmured. "So it begins…"
He stood, and the wind itself seemed to bend around him.
Spirits emerged from the trees—shapes of mist and sorrow, their forms barely held together. They bowed in reverence.
"What is your will, Flame-born?" asked the eldest of them.
Saren's voice was soft, but firm. "Take me to the edge of the living world. I must find her. And if the world burns to make that happen…"
He looked skyward.
"Then let it burn."
---
Back in Draz'Kareth…
Seren stood upon the balcony of her mother's throne room, overlooking the city of stone and fire. Below, dragon statues shimmered with molten veins, and torchlight danced across ancient spires. But her heart was not calm.
Every moment she stood here, she felt more like a lie.
A Queen who had inherited a throne built on betrayal. A daughter born of a god who had cursed the world. A sister unaware of her brother's pain.
Kael joined her, silent for a while, then said quietly, "You're shaking."
"I can feel him," Seren said. "Saren. My brother."
"You've felt him before?"
"Not like this. It's like… our flames are reaching for each other. Like we were split, but not severed."
She touched her chest. The mark on her collarbone—twisting like twin dragons—glowed faintly.
Kael hesitated. "Then what happens when you find him?"
Seren turned to face him.
"I don't know. But I have to try. Because if I don't—someone else will."
---
In the darkness beyond the living world, Queen Melara stood before a mirror of shadows, her form wreathed in magic not her own.
The voice that echoed around her was no longer Varion's.
It was Aru'vethra's shade, the remnant torn from Seren when the Heart shattered—now clinging to the living world, desperate to be whole again.
"She is unstable," Melara said. "She doesn't yet understand what she is."
"Then break her before she does," the voice growled. "Split her from the twin. Keep the crown divided."
Melara's eyes narrowed. "And what of the boy?"
The voice laughed, dark and deep.
"He carries the other half of my soul. Together, they are divine. Apart—they are ruin."
Melara turned. "Then I'll ensure they never stand together."
---
On the path north…
The journey to the Temple of Unity was not one they had planned, but Seren knew she had to go. Legend said it was where the blood of twin kings once forged a kingdom that spanned continents—before the Flame War tore it apart.
Now, she hoped it held the truth she needed.
Seren, Kael, Nyara, and Laziel rode quietly. The road was old, cracked by time, flanked by sleeping statues of forgotten gods.
Kael finally broke the silence. "Will he look like you?"
Seren smiled faintly. "Maybe. Or maybe he'll hate me for being the half that survived."
"Don't think like that."
"Then how should I think?"
Kael reached for her hand as they rode.
"Think like a sister. And a Queen."
---
They reached the temple by nightfall. The air was thinner here, the stars brighter. Pillars of obsidian reached toward the sky like skeletal fingers, and fireflies danced like embers in the wind.
Seren stepped forward.
At the temple's heart, a basin of mirrored water reflected the sky above—except where two stars pulsed too bright.
Saren.
And herself.
She was close.
---
In that moment, the ground trembled.
An explosion of shadow burst from the forest behind them. A dozen black-robed figures leapt from the trees—mages of the Covenant Reborn, loyal to Melara.
Kael drew his sword instantly. "AMBUSH!"
Nyara flipped into the trees, bow loosing arrows of ice. Laziel summoned the wind, slashing the air with daggers of sound.
Seren stood still… until one mage launched a spear of shadow toward Kael.
Then the fire inside her snapped.
She flung her hand forward.
The spear disintegrated in mid-air—melted by golden fire laced with dark tendrils.
Half light. Half death.
---
The battle was fierce.
Spells collided in bursts of color and chaos. The mages fought like demons, possessed by shadow. One tried to touch Seren—his body turned to ash before he even screamed.
When it was over, ten lay dead.
The last tried to flee.
But Seren grabbed him with fire-magic and dragged him to her feet.
"Who sent you?" she demanded.
He sneered. "The mother of all flame will fall."
"Queen Melara," Kael said through clenched teeth.
"She knows about your brother," the man coughed.
"Where is he?" Seren asked.
But he smiled, bloodied. "Closer than you think."
Then he burned—his body collapsing to dust in her grip.
---
Far across the valley…
Saren stopped mid-step.
He gasped, falling to his knees. Flames burst around him.
He saw it. The basin. The temple.
He saw her.
"Sister…"
He ran.