The night air was colder now, sharper—as if the shadows themselves were watching.
Nova sat by the fire, the Chronicle of Cinders resting in her lap, its golden letters dimming after hours of study. The words had burned into her mind, each line of prophecy wrapping tighter around her destiny like invisible chains.
Across from her, Lucien sharpened his blade in silence, eyes glancing toward her every now and then. It wasn't mistrust. It was something else. Worry.
"You don't have to look at me like I'm going to explode," Nova muttered, her voice soft but steady.
Lucien paused. "You almost did. Back in Emberfall."
"I was in control."
"Barely. That kind of power… it changes people. Fast."
Nova raised an eyebrow. "Is that from experience?"
Lucien didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lowered his blade and stared into the fire. "I've seen power twist good people into monsters. People who thought they were fighting for the right cause until the lines blurred."
Nova looked down at her hands, remembering the way her flames had devoured the masked attackers—how it had felt like something ancient had taken over. A force greater than herself.
"I'm not a monster," she whispered.
"No. But that doesn't mean the power won't try to make you one."
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackle of burning wood and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. Nova turned her eyes skyward. The stars were partially hidden by drifting clouds, like secrets refusing to be told.
"Why do you help me, Lucien?" she asked after a while. "Really."
Lucien's lips tightened, as if holding back words he'd never meant to share. Finally, he said, "Because once… I couldn't save someone who mattered. Someone who trusted me. If I can protect you, maybe I can make peace with that failure."
Nova felt the sincerity in his voice, the weight of old wounds that hadn't healed. Her heart softened, and the wall she'd been keeping up slowly cracked.
"You're not the only one haunted by the past," she murmured.
Their shared pain lingered in the quiet, a silent understanding forming between them.
Suddenly, a breeze swept through the clearing—unnatural, cold, laced with whispers.
Nova stood, the Chronicle clutched tight in her arms.
Lucien was up in an instant. "We're not alone."
From the edge of the forest, a shape emerged—tall, cloaked in shadows, with eyes that gleamed silver under the moonlight. It didn't speak, but its presence screamed power.
Lucien drew his sword. "Shadow emissary," he muttered.
The figure raised its hand slowly, not in threat, but in gesture.
Nova's pendant pulsed.
Then, a voice echoed—calm, male, and ancient. Not from the figure's mouth, but inside their minds.
"Nova Rae. The flames whisper of your awakening. Your bloodline stains this earth. Come willingly, and we shall end your suffering quickly."
Nova's jaw clenched. "Not happening."
The voice continued, as if amused. "You play at prophecy, but you do not understand the fire you carry. The Emberfang calls for its wielder—and it does not answer to the weak."
Lucien stepped forward. "Leave. Or you'll find out just how strong she is."
But the emissary didn't move. Instead, it extended a black-gloved hand toward Nova. The air shimmered between them, and she felt it—dark magic, pulling at her, trying to weigh her down.
She fought it, pushing back with her own flame, feeling it swell in her chest.
Not today.
With a cry, she let the fire surge through her, breaking the connection. A wall of flame shot up between them and the emissary, casting long shadows across the trees.
When the fire died down, the figure was gone—vanished into the night.
Nova collapsed to her knees, breathing hard.
Lucien knelt beside her. "You did good. That took strength."
She shook her head. "That was just a messenger. The real war is coming."
Lucien helped her up. "Then we keep moving. The Emberfang is still out there. And if they want it… we need it first."
Nova nodded, but inside, her thoughts were racing.
The power inside her wasn't just ancient—it was growing. Calling to something she didn't understand yet. And if the Shadow Court believed she was weak, they were wrong.
Because Nova Rae wasn't running anymore.
She was preparing to fight.