t. Dust covered every surface, but it offered something rare: silence. "They'll come for you now, faster than ever," Cassian said, his voice low. "You revealed more than you should have.

as not just a symbol; it was a blood oath, a curse passed down from her family to protect a power long thought lost. Cassian opened a faded leather satchel and removed an ancient scroll sealed with the Order's insignia. "This was left for you." Seraphina hesitated, then broke the seal. Her eyes skimmed the ancient language-whispers of forbidden rites, of bloo

h thorns that coiled like snakes. Cassian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "It means your mother wasn't just a guardian of the Rose. She was the last wielder of the Binding Flame." Seraphina's breath caught. The Binding Flame was legend-tales told to frighten noble children. It was said to burn through falsehood, to force truth from liars, and unravel dark magic with a single

e would know. He held it out. "She carried this into her last battle. It's yours now." Seraphina took the sword. It felt light, like it belonged in her hand. "We leave before dawn," Cassian said. "The Ashen Hills are days away, but once we reach the seer, everything changes." "And the Order?" she asked. He gave

the back entrance of the apothecary, cloaked and ready. Cassian handed Seraphina a vial of nightshade oil. "Only use it if you're cornered," he said. "And never hesitate." Seraphina nodded, tucking it into her satchel. The city slept restlessly. Far off, a bell tolled. A warning? A death? She couldn't tell. Shadows stretched long across the cobbled alleys as they slipped throug

m. A woman-dressed in crimson, her hood pulled low. Her voice slithered out like cold silk. "The Rose awakens," she said. "How quaint." Seraphina reached for her blade. Cassian stood protectively in front of her. "You're not ready for what's coming, girl," the woman continued.