They emerged from the Wyrdwood just as dawn broke.
The trees behind them sighed like a closing door. Aelira turned once to glance back, but already the forest looked different — smaller, tamer, as if hiding the truth of what had happened within.
"Where are we now?" she asked.
Kaelen scanned the landscape. Ahead stretched rolling hills laced with early fog and the glitter of dewdrops on wildflowers. In the distance, tall stone towers pierced the sky — weathered, ancient, and half-consumed by ivy.
"The outskirts of Ashgarde," he said. "An old fortress. Long abandoned."
Aelira stepped forward cautiously. "Why here?"
"Because he's here," Kaelen said.
Aelira raised a brow. "He?"
Kaelen didn't answer. Instead, he led the way up a worn cobbled path, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. As they reached the gate, Aelira's stomach twisted — not from fear, but from something stranger, pulling at her bones.
Inside the fortress ruins, it was quiet. Almost sacred. Ivy crawled across sun-warmed stone. Birds chirped in distant towers. And in the heart of the open courtyard…
Someone was training.
A shirtless man moved in fluid, practiced arcs — blade in hand, fire curling around his fingers with every strike. He spun, slashed, and the flames followed like a dance. Not wild, but controlled. Beautiful. Powerful.
His hair was copper-gold, streaked with ash. His skin, sun-kissed. And when he finally turned toward them, his eyes locked on Aelira — a blazing amber, lit from within.
She forgot how to breathe.
Kaelen stood still beside her. "This is Theron. Ember Knight. Once loyal to the Fire Courts. Now bound to no one."
"Kaelen," Theron said, sheathing his blade without looking away from Aelira. "You brought her."
Aelira blinked. "You… know me?"
He stepped closer, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "I felt your awakening. Like a flare across the sky."
"And you didn't come find me?" she asked, surprised by her own boldness.
He chuckled, warm and low. "Wouldn't have made a very good entrance. I prefer dramatic timing."
Kaelen muttered, "Of course you do."
Aelira tried to ignore the way Theron's presence tugged at something deep inside her — the same way the crescent stone had pulsed, only hotter.
Theron tilted his head. "You don't feel it yet, do you?"
"Feel what?"
"The bond," he said. "The threads of fate, weaving between us." His hand reached for her — but stopped just shy of touching. "You're the flame that calls to us. And I…" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "I've burned for you in every lifetime."
She should've laughed. Should've questioned it.
But her heart answered before her mind could.
A single spark bloomed on her fingertips.
He smiled again, slower this time. "There it is."
Kaelen stepped between them suddenly. "This isn't a reunion. She needs training. Protection. Not flirting."
Theron arched a brow. "Who said I can't do both?"
Aelira's cheeks flushed.
Kaelen's glare could've frozen lava.
But before any of them could speak again, the sky above darkened — unnaturally.
A shadow passed over the fortress, and in its wake, a chill settled deep in Aelira's bones.
From the clouds, a screech echoed — high and bone-splitting.
Kaelen's sword was out in an instant. Theron's fingers lit with flame.
Aelira looked up just in time to see a creature with wings of smoke and a mouth of shadow diving from the sky.
Kaelen shouted, "Veilspawn! Get behind—"
But before he could reach her, Aelira raised her hand — and light exploded from her palm.
A flash like a falling star.
The creature shrieked and vanished in midair, as though torn from reality itself.
Silence followed. Heavy. Disbelieving.
Theron whistled softly. "Well then."
Aelira's hand trembled. The crescent stone burned hot at her chest.
Kaelen stared at her. "You shouldn't be able to do that. Not yet."
Aelira looked at her palm, still faintly glowing.
"I didn't mean to."
Theron stepped beside her, his voice no longer playful. "You've awakened faster than we thought. That means she's coming."
"Who?" Aelira asked, her voice a whisper.
Kaelen answered.
"The Shadow Queen."