Chapter 2: The Glance That Changed Everything
The Hall of Flames shimmered with magic. Lanterns suspended in midair cast golden light over the marbled floor, while spectral flames danced in wall sconces—each flame a tribute to the elemental spirits who protected Ilyrá. At the far end of the hall, King Kaelen sat beneath the Crown Tree, a towering silver blossom that pulsed with divine energy.
The Choosing was not merely a ceremony—it was a communion. Each woman would step forward, offer her truth, and place her hand upon the Crown Tree. If the spirits approved, the tree would bloom with her name in runes of light. If not—it would remain still, and her name would fade from history.
Liora stepped forward, every eye fixed on her.
Behind her veil, she inhaled deeply. She could feel the wards woven into the air, ancient and watchful. The moment her foot touched the first glyph-etched stone, the flames in the hall leaned toward her, as if curious.
Kaelen noticed.
He leaned slightly forward on his throne, something unreadable in his expression. Was it suspicion? Interest? Or something more dangerous—recognition?
Liora's voice rang out, clear and calm.
"I am Liora, daughter of Elaya the Exiled, born of ash and sea. I come not to be chosen, but to be seen."
The hall gasped.
No one defied the formality. No one spoke outside the expected vows of obedience and honor.
But Kaelen… smiled.
It was a small smile, but it made something stir in the air. The Crown Tree's branches twitched. The spirits were listening.
Liora reached out and placed her hand on the bark.
The runes did not bloom.
They blazed.
A column of light burst upward, throwing every courtier back in shock. The runes formed a spiral of names—ancient names—names from the First Line, the bloodline of queens lost to war and time. And at the center, one word pulsed in radiant blue:
"Truthbearer."
Gasps turned to whispers. Magic crackled through the hall. The High Oracle staggered. The queen mothers exchanged sharp glances. This was not what they expected.
King Kaelen stood.
His voice was low, but it echoed with power.
"Liora of Velmara… come forward."
She walked the length of the hall alone, her steps as steady as a heartbeat.
And when their eyes met—truly met—it was like time folded in on itself.
King. Sorceress. Fate.
Something had just begun.
Something neither of them could control