The countryside estate lay still under the fading gold of a sunset sky, quiet, peaceful, and untouched by the rumblings of war that had begun to shake the courts.
At the edge of the manor grounds, Cynthia Liora Aurelius moved like a blade through the training yard. Fire flickered across her knuckles, trailing in controlled arcs as she struck the old dummies with silent precision. Her dark red tunic clung to her frame, soaked with sweat, and her boots scuffed the gravel with every turn.
To an onlooker, she might have appeared simply a noblewoman with an unusual talent.
But her fire told a different story.
The gift of flame belonged only to the firstborn of the Sol Aurelius line, passed down like a crown, Casimir had inherited it from his grandfather, as expected. Cynthia, descended from the twin brother to Casimir's grandfather, should never have held it.
Yet, from the moment her magic had roared to life on her twelfth year, everything had changed.
She still remembered that day.
