The sky bled crimson the night Aeris was chosen.
She didn't notice it at first—too busy sprinting across the rain-slick rooftops of Eldoria's capital, leather boots slipping, black braid whipping behind her like a war banner. All she heard was the clash of steel below, the crackling fires, and the screaming of the dying.
And the heartbeat in her ears.
Her own.
Because she wasn't just running for her life.
She was running from the prophecy.
"The one born under red stars will awaken the flame… and burn the world or save it."
Aeris never believed in fate. Fate was for nobles and priests, for people who had the luxury of sitting around debating their destinies. She was a thief, an orphan, a shadow in the alleys. Fate had never offered her anything but bruises and hunger.
Until tonight.
Until the sky wept blood and the sigil on her back—the mark she'd hidden her whole life—began to burn.
She skidded to a halt on a stone ledge high above the city square, gasping, the wind tearing at her cloak. Below, chaos reigned. The King's men fought monstrous creatures of black flame. Mages screamed incantations in a dozen tongues. Civilians fled blindly through ash and rubble.
A golden arrow cut the air beneath her feet, followed by another.
"Got you, little flame," a voice growled behind her.
She spun—blades drawn—only to meet the eyes of a soldier cloaked in silver, his face half-shadowed, half-scarred. He was beautiful in a brutal, ruined sort of way. And his eyes weren't human.
They glowed like molten gold.
"You need to come with me," he said, voice low, strained. "Before they kill you—or worse."
Aeris backed up another step. "You're one of them."
"I'm the only thing between you and them. So decide fast."
She hesitated. Her mark burned hotter, pulsing like a heartbeat. The sky thundered above—unnatural, ancient—and a column of red light erupted from the ruined palace at the city's heart.
The Flame had awakened.
And the world would never be the same.
Aeris made her choice.
She jumped.
Not down, not away.
Into him.
She jumped—straight into his chest, his arms catching her with a startled grunt as they toppled together behind the crumbling arch of the bell tower.
A second later, the stone where she'd stood exploded in a flash of red flame. Shards of rock and splinters of ancient wood rained down around them. The city roared like a beast in pain.
Aeris barely noticed.
Her body was flush against his, the rapid thrum of her heart matched by the solid, steady rhythm of his. He smelled of steel and wild wind, and beneath it—faint, but unmistakable—was the scent of something old. Not age, but legacy. Like forgotten temples and ancient storms.
She shoved herself out of his arms, heart pounding for entirely different reasons now.
"Don't touch me," she snapped.
"You leapt into my arms, not the other way around." He stood with frustrating calm, brushing ash from his shoulder. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd have let them take the shot."
"Nice to know we're measuring trust in degrees of attempted murder now."
A hint of amusement flickered in his golden eyes. "With you? Yes."
"Who are you?" she asked, circling him warily, knives still drawn. "Why do your eyes glow? Why do I feel like I've seen you before?"
He hesitated. The wind caught his silver cloak, revealing the faint shimmer of rune-marked armor beneath.
"My name is Kael," he said. "I'm a Guardian of the Flame."
Aeris froze. "That's a myth."
"So are girls with fire marks on their backs who leap off rooftops into men's arms," he replied smoothly. "Yet, here we are."
She didn't want to show it, but the mention of her mark made her twitch. The skin between her shoulder blades still felt like it was burning.
He stepped forward slowly, hands raised. "That pain you feel? It means the seal's broken. The prophecy's begun."
"I don't care about the prophecy," she spat. "I just want to survive this city."
"You don't have a choice anymore," Kael said, his voice lower now, almost regretful. "They'll hunt you to the ends of the realm. Not just for your power—because you can end this war. Or doom us all."
"Great," Aeris muttered. "Just what I needed. More pressure."
A scream echoed through the air—a real one. Not magical or monstrous. A child.
Aeris moved before Kael could stop her, bolting down the crumbling staircase of the bell tower and into the burning alley below. The air stung her eyes, and smoke clawed at her lungs, but the cry came again.
She found the source beneath a collapsed fruit cart. A small girl, bloodied but breathing, her wide eyes locked on the twisted corpse of her mother only a few feet away.
Aeris didn't hesitate.
She tossed her blades aside and lifted the debris with a grunt, forcing her body to move past the pain and the smoke and the rising fear in her chest. The child clung to her without a word, silent tears streaking her soot-stained cheeks.
Kael appeared beside her a moment later, gaze unreadable.
"You could have left her."
"She's not part of your precious prophecy?" Aeris asked, voice sharp.
"She's not," he said simply. "But you saved her anyway. That matters."
She scowled. "Don't get sentimental on me, glowing eyes."
A slow, amused smile touched his lips. "You've got spirit. I like that."
Aeris didn't know why that made her chest flutter like it did. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was the aftermath of nearly dying. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her—not like she was a weapon or a threat, but like she was someone. Seen. Known.
Wanted.
That terrified her more than the prophecy.
Before she could say anything, a horn blew in the distance—long, low, and echoing with dread.
Kael's smile vanished. "They found us. We need to move."
"With a kid?" Aeris asked.
"With a future queen of the realm in your arms?" he corrected.
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"Long story," Kael said, lifting his hand. A circle of runes burned into the air around them.
A moment later, the world bent sideways—and they vanished.