The morning after the festival's eve was gray and quiet, the sky hung with low clouds like a curtain drawn over the world.
Seraphina hadn't slept much. Her thoughts kept circling back to the message.
The Moonmarked rides again.
The words clung to her mind like cobwebs. She'd heard whispers of that name before—once in an old lullaby, and once again in a forgotten page of her mother's journals.
Now it was no longer legend.
She stood in the royal library, surrounded by dust, scrolls, and sleeping silence. Her fingers traced the edge of an old tome, its binding cracked, its pages frayed.
Cassian entered quietly. "You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep."
He nodded, unsurprised. "The Moonmarked?"
Seraphina turned the book so he could see the faded title:
"Echoes of the First Flame: Forgotten Orders and the Celestial Curse."
She opened to a page marked by a delicate feather—the same kind that had appeared in her chamber before.
> "When the Everflame dims, and the moon bleeds silver, the Moonmarked shall return. Cloaked in shadow, riding dreams, they seek to unbind the threads of the world."
"They were real," Seraphina whispered. "Not just stories told to frighten children."
Cassian's eyes darkened. "If they've returned… we need allies."
She nodded. "I need to see the Star-Keeper."
Cassian blinked. "The Star-Keeper vanished before you were born. No one's seen her in years."
"I saw her," Seraphina whispered. "In my dream. When I touched the orb. She spoke to me."
He didn't question her. He only nodded.
---
Later that day, Seraphina sat with her father in the Hall of Light. Sunlight poured through stained glass windows, painting the marble floors with color.
King Alaric's face was lined with age and worry. "The Moonmarked… I'd hoped we had seen the last of them."
"You've faced them before?"
He hesitated. "Once. A long time ago. Your mother was the key then… and now it seems, you are."
Seraphina swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I hoped you would never carry her burden. But the Everflame chose you."
He rose, walked to the edge of the dais, and opened a small chest hidden in the dais floor.
Inside was a folded cloak—silver-threaded, lined with symbols—and a silver hairpin shaped like a crescent moon.
"Your mother's," he said softly. "She wore it the day she banished the Moonmarked. You may need it now."
Seraphina took it with trembling hands.
---
That night, under the watch of starlight and prophecy, Seraphina stood before her mirror, hair braided back, cloak clasped at her shoulders. She didn't feel like a girl anymore.
She felt like something older, something lit by ancient fire.
And then, from somewhere deep in her soul, a melody rose—not learned, not remembered, but felt.
---
Song: "Daughter of the Flame"
I am the spark in the shadowed sky,
The breath of stars as they fall and fly.
Born of the light, shaped in her name—
I am the daughter of the flame.
I am the cry when the silence breaks,
The bloom of dawn when the old world wakes.
Bound to the past, yet I remain—
I am the daughter of the flame.
---
As her voice drifted through the quiet halls, a figure stirred beyond the castle gates.
Wrapped in a cloak of feathers and mist, the masked stranger from her visions stood on the edge of the forest, watching the towers with unblinking eyes.
And behind them, far to the north, the moon began to dim.
The Moonmarked had returned.
---