Chapter 5: Brothers Of Flame And Iron

The ruins rose from the earth like jagged bones—crumbling pillars, half-buried statues, and shattered stone arches consumed by ivy and moss. Lyra followed Kael through the fog, her heart hammering.

“This place…” she whispered. “It feels like it’s watching us.”

“It’s ancient,” Kael replied. “Older than Emberhold itself. One of the last places the crown’s power still lingers.”

He led her toward the center, where a broken dais sat beneath the open sky. The air thrummed with quiet magic—wild, waiting, aware. Lyra’s silver mark tingled, then burned as she stepped closer.

“What do I do?” she asked, uncertain.

“Touch the stone,” Kael said. “It will know you.”

But just as she reached out, the wind shifted—and the temperature dropped.

Kael turned, eyes narrowing. “We’re not alone.”

A figure stepped from the mist, slow and deliberate. His cloak was deep gray, almost black, trimmed in red. His dark hair was windswept, and his silver armor gleamed like polished steel. But it was his eyes—sharp, cold, and unyielding—that gave him away.

Lyra’s breath caught.

“You,” Kael growled.

Prince Thorne.

“Well met, brother,” Thorne said, voice smooth and mocking. “Still dragging curses through ruins, I see.”

Kael stepped protectively in front of Lyra. “Turn back. You have no place here.”

“On the contrary,” Thorne said, circling slowly. “The crown belongs to both of us. And the girl…” His gaze shifted to Lyra. “She doesn’t know what you’re leading her into, does she?”

“She’s not your concern.”

“I think she is.” Thorne’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t tell her the price, did you, Kael? The power of the crown doesn’t come freely. It takes. It always takes.”

Lyra stepped forward, uncertain. “What is he talking about?”

Kael’s jaw clenched, but before he could speak, Thorne answered for him.

“The crown chooses a bearer, yes. But to wield its magic, it demands sacrifice. Blood. Memory. Sometimes... even love.”

Silence fell.

Kael’s voice was low, controlled. “Don’t listen to him. He twisted the crown’s purpose. That’s why the realm is falling apart.”

“No,” Thorne said with quiet fury. “I understood it. You still dream of saving a kingdom that no longer wants saving. But I see the truth—this world needs order, not hope. And if I must use shadow to bring it, so be it.”

Energy crackled between them. Flame danced in Kael’s palm. Shadows writhed at Thorne’s heels.

Lyra stood frozen, caught between fire and steel.

“This is madness,” she whispered. “You’re brothers.”

“We were,” Kael said bitterly. “Until he chose power over everything.”

Thorne’s gaze flicked to her again, softer now. “And what will you choose, Lyra? A crown of broken promises… or the strength to change the world?”

She didn’t answer.

Because she didn’t know.

Suddenly, Thorne surged forward—too fast to react. Kael blocked the blow, swords clashing in a burst of flame and sparks. The ruins shook as magic pulsed through the air.

Lyra stumbled back, watching them battle—light against dark, fire against shadow. They moved like mirrors of one another—equal, deadly, and terrifying.

And she understood then: this wasn’t just a family feud.

This was war.

And she was the prize.

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