The fires of Cindralis had barely cooled before Kael and Seraphine gathered their banners.
The campaign had begun.
Not just to reclaim thrones or avenge blood spilled—but to break the chain of prophecy before it could bind them completely.
But war, Kael would soon learn, was not just waged on the battlefield.
It was waged in the heart.
And some wars were lost before they even began.
Kael's map, spread across a marble table cracked by flame, showed five kingdoms still unclaimed.
Two were already marching behind Vaelen, his false crown bolstered by lies and fanatics.
One had no ruler.
And two remained undecided.
Their only hope lay in forming the Raven Alliance, a long-dead coalition of demonkind, wolves, and humans—first created during the War of the Ash Moon.
Seraphine traced the route with her finger.
"If we can win back the Underglint Hills, the Ravens might answer," she said. "The last heir to that bloodline was loyal to your mother."
Kael nodded. "Then we ride at dawn."
But that night, as Kael sharpened his blades and Seraphine penned battle orders, a messenger arrived.
Trembling. Pale. Eyes wide with terror.
He collapsed at their feet, clutching a scroll sealed in red wax.
Kael opened it.
Then read it again.
And again.
His hands trembled. His breath stopped.
Seraphine stepped closer. "What is it?"
Kael looked at her, grief breaking across his features like a storm.
"Your sister is alive."
Seraphine stared at the letter.
Then took it and read the words written in an elegant, cruel hand.
To the cursed prince and the sacrificial girl,
I offer you a gift. A glimpse into the past you tried to forget.
Come to Hollowspire Keep within three days. Or I send her back to you in pieces.
—V.
Seraphine's knees gave out.
"Liora," she whispered. "I thought she died in the fire. My real sister. My blood."
Kael knelt beside her. "You told me you never knew what happened to her."
"I didn't. She was taken before I could walk. My parents always said... always said the gods claimed her."
Kael touched her hand gently. "Vaelen has her. Which means he's known who you are longer than we have."
Commander Tharion slammed his fist on the war table.
"It's a trap."
Seraphine looked up, eyes burning.
"Then let it be. I'll walk into it anyway."
Kael was silent for a long time.
Then he spoke. "We go. But not alone."
They reached Hollowspire on the third night.
It rose from the cliffs like a fang—obsidian and ice, surrounded by fog thick enough to choke.
Guards lined the parapets.
But Kael and Seraphine entered unchallenged.
Vaelen wanted them to come.
They found him in the throne room, sitting on a stolen chair of bone and gold, flanked by a woman in chains.
She looked like Seraphine.
But older. Worn. Eyes dulled by pain.
"Liora," Seraphine breathed.
Her sister looked up. And for a second, something shone behind her hollow eyes.
Recognition.
Vaelen stood.
He looked nothing like the broken half-brother Kael remembered.
Now, he wore royal armor of black steel and crimson gems. His eyes glowed faintly. As if some other magic filled him.
"You took everything from me, little brother," he said. "Our mother. Her favor. The power that should've been mine."
Kael stepped forward. "You were never strong enough to take it. And now you hide behind a girl in chains."
Vaelen smiled coldly. "She's not just a girl. She's Seraphine's blood. The second child of prophecy."
Silence. Shattering.
Kael turned to Seraphine. "What does he mean?"
Vaelen gestured lazily. "The old gods wanted one child. But they got two. The bloodline split. Golden blood in one. Silver in the other."
He leaned in.
"Only together do they unlock the gate."
Seraphine's voice shook. "What gate?"
Vaelen's smile grew sharp.
"The one beneath the mountain. The one that holds the flame of gods."
Vaelen's voice turned low.
"Give me her. Let me use their blood as one. And I'll spare your army. Your kingdoms. Even your cursed prince."
Kael stepped forward, rage flickering in his veins.
"No."
But Seraphine looked at her sister.
And her sister looked back.
Liora whispered, "Don't let him use me. Whatever happens… don't let him win."
Kael drew his sword.
And Vaelen… vanished.
The throne room exploded in magic.
Illusion.
Trap.
A Kingdom in Motion
They fought their way out.
But when they reached the cliffs again, Liora was missing.
And Kael's sigil—once burning bright—began to dim.
The mirror offering had broken the prophecy's grip.
But something else had taken hold.
Seraphine gripped Kael's shoulder as they stared at the horizon.
Vaelen wasn't just playing king anymore.
He was opening something beneath the mountain.
And soon, they would have to decide:
Do they save the world from prophecy?
Or save each other from fate?