The wind in Avalon was different.
It whispered, like it knew secrets and wanted Mia to hear them. She stood alone in the clearing behind Neyra's hut, her eyes closed, palms open to the air. Her boots sank a little into the soft moss beneath her feet, but she barely noticed.
She was trying to listen.
Not with her ears.
With something else—something her father said lived deep inside her.
"You're not just blood and bone," he had told her. "You're magic too. But magic won't scream for attention. It waits. It watches. Until you earn its trust."
But how could she earn the trust of something she didn't even understand?
Behind her, Neyra watched silently. Her pale eyes never blinked. A long stick of incense burned beside her, releasing curling blue smoke that spiraled around Mia's head.
"Your power is loud," Neyra said softly. "But your focus is weak."
Mia flinched. "I'm trying."
"Trying is not enough. Your enemies won't care if you tried. They'll strike, and you'll be dead. Or worse."
Mia turned to face her. "What could be worse than dying?"
Neyra walked forward. "Living with a cursed legacy. Watching others die for you. That's worse."
Mia dropped her gaze. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does."
A silence fell between them. Birds called in the distance. The river in the air shimmered.
Then Neyra stepped closer and handed Mia a small dagger. It had no jewels, no markings—just a plain black hilt and a silver blade.
"You will train with this," Neyra said. "Every day until your hands bleed."
Mia stared at the weapon. "I thought magic didn't need weapons."
Neyra's mouth twitched. "Magic won't always answer. Steel never hesitates."
That evening, Mia sat by the fire, arms sore, palms bruised from the training. Olcan returned from the woods with berries and wild roots, which he roasted quietly over the fire.
"Was she hard on you?" he asked.
Mia didn't answer. Her eyes stayed on the flames.
"Good," he said. "You'll need that toughness."
She turned to him. "Why didn't you tell me everything sooner?"
He sighed. "Because once you know everything, you can't go back. And I wanted you to be a child for just a little longer."
Mia looked away. "I don't feel like a child."
"You shouldn't. Not after what you've survived."
She pulled her knees to her chest. "Why did my mother fall in love with you? Wolves and vampires weren't supposed to mix."
Olcan chuckled softly. "That's a long story."
"We have time."
He stared into the fire. "She was unlike anyone I'd ever met. Strong. Proud. But curious. She wanted to understand the world, not just rule it. She visited the borders of Greenland without telling her guards. That's where I found her. Lost. Hungry. Wearing royal robes and cursing the mud."
Mia raised a brow. "And you just… helped her?"
"I almost didn't. I thought she was a spy. But then she smiled. And I realized she was just lonely."
Mia was quiet for a moment.
"I think I'm like her," she said. "Lonely. Even when I'm not alone."
Olcan looked at her. "You are like her. But you're also something more."
In the vampire citadel of Echelon, the King sat at the highest window of the tower, watching black clouds gather. Lightning danced in the sky, sharp and hungry.
His name was Lucien. Brother of the late King Athens. Usurper. Survivor.
He twirled a ring around his finger—gold with a blood-red gem. The royal seal.
Behind him, the hooded figure returned. "She's training in Avalon."
Lucien spoke without turning. "Good. Let her."
"My lord?"
"She will grow stronger. She must. Otherwise, her defeat will be meaningless. Let her taste hope. Let her believe she can win. And then…"
He smiled coldly. "...take everything from her."
Back in Avalon, Neyra had begun the next phase of Mia's training.
Control.
Mia stood beneath a floating rock spire, her arms raised. Neyra stood behind her, whispering words that twisted the air.
"You are fire," Neyra said. "But fire can destroy. Or it can protect. It listens only to those who respect it."
Mia breathed deeply. Her skin felt hot. Her eyes glowed faintly red. The spire above her shook as her power reached out—grabbing, gripping.
"Don't force it," Neyra warned. "Let it flow."
The spire trembled again.
Then shattered.
Rocks rained down.
Mia screamed—but Olcan leapt in front of her, arms raised. A shield of wind formed just in time, blasting the rubble away.
Silence.
Mia fell to her knees, gasping.
"I can't control it," she said. "I'm too dangerous."
"No," Neyra said. "You're afraid."
Olcan touched Mia's shoulder. "You'll get stronger. That's why we're here."
Mia looked at her hands. "What if I hurt someone?"
"Then you learn," Olcan said. "You don't run."
That night, the stars over Avalon shimmered.
Mia stood outside the hut, watching the floating river. The moonlight painted her face silver.
That's when she saw him.
A figure standing on the far side of the river. Cloaked in pale robes, hood drawn, watching her.
She blinked.
He raised a hand. Not in warning. In greeting.
Then disappeared.
Mia's heart pounded.
"Who was that?" she asked aloud.
No answer came.
The next morning, Neyra handed her a scroll. "Read this."
Mia unrolled it. Strange symbols danced across the parchment.
"I don't understand."
"You will," Neyra said. "It's written in the First Tongue. The language of the Flame. The same language the Prophecy was written in."
Mia ran her fingers over the ink. It felt warm.
"Where did you get this?" she asked.
"I didn't," Neyra said. "You did."
Mia frowned. "What?"
"This was found at the edge of the Mist Gate the day you were born. Wrapped in wolfskin. Written in vampire blood. Sealed with Avalon magic."
Mia's hands trembled. "What does it say?"
Neyra stared at her. "We don't know. Only the Flame-Born can read it."
Mia stared at the scroll again. This time, one word shimmered.
"Elvarin."
The world around her tilted.
Suddenly, she wasn't in Avalon anymore.
She stood in a blackened hall, stone columns cracked and crumbling. A crown lay broken on the floor. Shadows whispered around her. A woman stood at the end of the hall, her face hidden beneath a veil of fire.
"Who are you?" Mia whispered.
The woman turned.
"Elvarin," she said. "It was your name before the world forgot."
Mia reached out—but the vision shattered.
She woke up screaming.
Olcan rushed in, holding her shoulders. "It's okay. You're safe."
Mia shook her head. "I saw her. The woman of fire. She called me Elvarin."
Olcan froze.
"What?" she asked.
He looked shaken. "That name… it's from the Flame Legends. It means 'the one who restores.' It hasn't been spoken in over a thousand years."
Mia hugged herself. "Why did she call me that?"
Olcan didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
In a hidden glade deep within Avalon, another figure stirred.
The boy from the river.
He sat cross-legged in a circle of glowing runes, eyes shut. His white hair fluttered in the wind. Around him, water rose and fell as if breathing.
A voice echoed in his mind.
She has awakened.
His eyes opened.
"Then so must I."