It started with her dreams.
Seraphine would wake in the dark, drenched in sweat, visions of fire and silver-eyed shadows fading from her mind like smoke. Her hands trembled, and sometimes, the air around her shimmered.
She hid it, at first.
Told Kael she was fine.
But the truth clawed beneath her skin.
The Hollow Flame was no longer dormant—it was growing. Not in power alone, but in will.
It whispered to her.
Burn them. Burn them all.
She clutched her chest, gasping, as fire flickered between her fingers in the middle of the night. Uncontrolled. Hungry.
She was becoming something else.
Something not entirely herself.
Kael noticed the change.
Her smiles dimmed. Her touch burned too long. Her voice grew distant.
When he walked in on her levitating above the marble floor, eyes white, lips moving in a dead language, he knew.
This wasn't something time could heal.
"Liora says it's the Flame feeding off your soul," Kael said quietly, holding her hand. "But there must be a way to sever it. To anchor you again."
She looked up at him, tears brimming.
"Even if it kills me?"
Kael cupped her face. "Especially if it doesn't."
And so, he went looking.
Into the forbidden places.
North of the Blackwood Valley, in a forest where time bent and magic bled from the earth, Kael sought the one creature no king dared to summon:
The Echo Seer.
A being older than the demon wars, said to speak only in riddles and visions, appearing only to those marked by both crown and curse.
Kael entered the forest at dusk.
By midnight, he was no longer alone.
The trees moved. Shadows breathed. And then she appeared—robed in feathers, skin like frost, eyes milky with stars.
"You seek to cage fire," she said without greeting. "But fire is not meant to be caged."
"I seek to save the woman I love," Kael replied, breath steady. "Tell me how."
The Seer smiled.
"Then you must journey to where fire first fell from the gods—the Pyrefield Ruins. There, beneath the ash, lies the Mirror of Binding. It can sever soul from power… but it demands a price."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"What kind of price?"
Her voice became wind.
"Either her flame… or your heart."
Far to the north, beneath a sky of falling frost, the warlord moved.
His name was whispered in taverns and nightmares alike: Aven of the Third Eye.
Once banished from the demon clans, now risen with a force born of exile and vengeance.
He rode a beast forged of ice and metal, his army clad in sigils that hadn't been seen in over a thousand years. Their march was swift. Ruthless.
They didn't just invade the border town of Virellin.
They erased it.
When Kael received the raven, he dropped the scroll.
Seraphine picked it up with trembling fingers and read the words aloud:
"He comes not for land. He comes for the Flame."
That night, Kael stood at the war table, eyes hollow, maps spread before him.
"We're not ready," Tharion muttered. "Even united, our forces haven't trained for what Aven commands. We need time."
"We don't have time," Kael replied. "If he reaches the capital, he'll tear through the city. Through her."
Liora stepped forward, her voice hesitant.
"There's another way. If Seraphine fully merges with the Hollow Flame, she could overpower Aven."
Seraphine flinched.
"And lose myself completely?"
Kael met her gaze.
"I won't let that happen. I've found a way. But I'll need to go alone."
Seraphine shook her head. "You're not leaving me behind."
"I'm not," Kael whispered. "I'm going to save you."