Chapter 4: Fire and Oaths

Lyra didn’t trust him. Not yet.

But she followed him.

It made no sense—running into the forest with a stranger cloaked in black who claimed to be a prince. But something in his voice, in the way he had said her name… it cut through her fear like a blade through fog. She felt it. The truth. And the danger that came with it.

They moved quickly, Kael weaving through the trees with practiced ease, while Lyra stumbled to keep up. The forest thickened around them, branches closing like skeletal fingers, and still, he didn’t slow.

“Where are we going?” she called.

“Somewhere safe. For now.”

“You still haven’t proved who you are.”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he stopped in a clearing where sunlight broke through the trees in golden beams. He turned, pushing back his hood. “Do you recognize this?”

He held out his hand. In his palm lay a black crest—a phoenix rising from flame, carved into obsidian. The royal emblem of Emberhold.

Lyra’s breath caught. She had only seen it once, on a worn coin passed through the village years ago. But here it was, warm and pulsing like fire in his hand.

“Why me?” she asked, her voice soft. “I’m not royalty. I’m not a warrior. I’m just—”

“You are marked by the old magic,” Kael said. “Born beneath the twin moons. Cursed at birth. The prophecy speaks of a girl like you—one who can awaken the Crown of Shadows and either save the realm or doom it.”

“That doesn’t make me special,” she whispered. “That makes me dangerous.”

Kael stepped closer, and for the first time, his voice gentled. “It makes you powerful. And right now, power is exactly what the kingdom needs.”

Lyra looked away, heart pounding. All her life she had feared this—being seen, being chosen, being dragged into something bigger than she could control. And yet… a part of her burned to understand it. The dreams. The letter. Her mother’s disappearance. It all had to mean something.

“Why now?” she asked. “Why me? Why today?”

“Because the crown is awakening. And the shadows are already hunting you. If we wait, they’ll find you before you find it.”

“The crown,” she said slowly, “what exactly is it?”

Kael hesitated. “A relic forged in ancient fire. It holds the magic of the first kings, bound in blood. It responds only to the one destined to wear it. Until now, no one has succeeded.”

“Because they weren’t me?”

“Because they weren’t strong enough.”

Lyra felt a knot twist in her chest. “And if I say no?”

Kael’s eyes flickered. “Then the curse claims you. And the kingdom falls.”

Silence hung between them.

Then Lyra drew a breath and reached for the necklace tucked under her collar—a small silver charm shaped like a crescent. Her mother’s parting gift. It pulsed softly, like it recognized Kael. Or the truth he carried.

She met his gaze.

“Then show me the path,” she said quietly. “Before the shadows get there first.”

Kael nodded once.

And just like that, Lyra’s fate was no longer her own.

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