Born In Shadow, Cried in Flame

Nyra Valeblood had always thought of her world as a quiet, somewhat gloomy place. Growing up on the outskirts of Korrith, she was far away from all the craziness happening in the Empire’s capital. She was used to listening to the soft whisper of the wind against the stone walls of her little cottage and the sound of dry leaves skittering across the barren ground. This life of solitude suited her just fine, and the rare visits from traveling merchants or old pals from the nearby village were the only interruptions to her peaceful existence. Here, in this calm corner of the kingdom, she could keep her secret hidden safely beneath layers of silence.

But, as she had often realized, things are never as they seem.

The moment the Imperial Seers showed up, everything flipped upside down.

It started with the sky. Thick storm clouds rolled in, swirling and darkening like a bad omen. The wind, previously gentle, whipped into a frenzy, carrying a chill that prickled at her skin—something wasn’t right. It felt like a warning, crackling through the air, hinting at trouble ahead. She could sense it in her bones long before she saw the figures on horseback, their cloaks billowing in the wind, their stark black banners fluttering above them like ominous bird wings.

Standing in the doorway of her cozy home, Nyra watched as they rode into the village, their expressions cold and cautious. The Seers were well-known for inspiring fear among the people, and even more so among those who dabbled in magic that was frowned upon by the Empire. And Nyra? She held the last ember of that forbidden flame.

All her life, she had known that one day the Empire would come looking for her. Her father had been a powerful sorcerer who kept her hidden after the Valeblood family was tragically wiped out. The Empire had come for them, eradicating her entire bloodline to keep a new generation of mages from rising. They’d burned down everything her family had built, turning their story into nothing but whispers and smoke. But Nyra had survived, and the power of fire coursed through her veins, a flame that would not die easily.

But deep down, she knew there was no place to hide forever, not from the Empire.

The leader of the Seers—a tall man with sharp eyes and a face marked by silver tattoos—dismounted and made his way toward her home. Their eyes met from afar, and Nyra felt a shiver shoot through her. The very atmosphere around him vibrated with a kind of power that made her heart race.

“Is she here?” His voice was low and commanding, reminiscent of a flame ready to leap and consume everything in sight.

Nyra had learned long ago that running wouldn’t help. Fear had been her constant companion, and now that grip tightened even more as the Empire finally came calling for her. The only thing left to figure out was whether she could actually come out of this alive.

Pressing her back against the rough stone wall of her cottage, she took quick, shallow breaths. The heat from her inner fire began to stir, responding to the tension that coiled within her like a waiting snake. The magic brewed inside her, untamed and fierce, yearning for freedom—just like it always did.

“Nyra Valeblood,” the Seer continued, his gaze roaming over her cottage as if he could strip away all its layers. “Step forward.”

Hearing her name come from his lips felt like being cursed, a painful reminder of a past the Empire desperately wanted to erase.

Her heart raced, yet somehow she managed to walk into the open. She couldn’t run away from this moment, no matter how much she wanted to. As she emerged from the shadows, the Seer’s expression softened just a bit. It felt more like an assessment than anything else.

“Fire,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The last of the Valeblood’s gift.”

Those words sparked a surge of panic inside her, but she didn’t back down. She looked him straight in the eye, refusing to show fear. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her—not again.

“You want to hunt me because of my power,” she shot back, her voice steady even as her hands trembled slightly. But I will never serve your Empire.

His lips twisted into a thin, humorless smile. “We’re not after your service, young lady. We want the flame that should’ve been snuffed out long ago. You are the last ember of a dying dynasty, and it’s time that ember was extinguished.”

Her heart stopped momentarily. She had felt this day creeping closer for a long time, but hearing it out loud, having her life boiled down to just a spark of rebellion, knocked the wind out of her.

“I won’t allow you to take me,” she asserted, her voice gaining strength, even though a tremor still loomed beneath her words. The fire inside her flared up, ready to defend her, but she needed to keep it in check. The last time she let her magic rage unchecked, it consumed everything, including the one who raised her.

The Seer glanced at his soldiers, who stood at the ready, weapons gleaming coldly under the darkening sky. A tense silence hung between them, broken only by the crackle of wind.

“You’ve got it wrong,” he said calmly, his tone almost eerie. “This isn’t just about your magic. It’s about your bloodline. It’s tied to the prophecy we’ve feared for years. You’re meant to be a key to something much bigger than you realize, and the Empire will stop at nothing to make sure that key turns.”

Her mind felt like it was spinning. Prophecy? Her? All she ever was, was a girl with a dangerous gift that had already cost her so much. Her parents had died because of the Empire’s wrath. Her home was nothing but a pile of ashes. She had survived by keeping her truth locked away.

But now the truth lay naked before her. And the Seer was right: she was done being just a survivor.

The prophecy was what spelled the end for her family, the very reason the Empire hunted them like prey, wanting to erase the Valeblood name from existence. They had feared the kind of power she possessed, the same force that could spark chaos if unleashed.

“I’m not some prophecy,” Nyra snarled, stepping forward defiantly. Anger coursed through her, igniting the fire within her that crackled with anticipation. “I am Nyra Valeblood. And if it means earning my freedom, I swear I will burn your Empire to ash.”

His smile slipped, replaced by something much darker and colder. He nodded to his soldiers, and without another word, they surged forward, weapons drawn.

But Nyra was ready.

The flames inside her erupted into life, a wild, untamed blaze that curled around her fingers like an eager serpent. Her heart raced, feeling every lick of heat as she channeled the fire, trembling with its intensity. The soldiers hesitated, eyes wide in shock, but the Seer remained calm, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You’ve made a choice,” he said, his voice flat, and for some reason, it sent chills down her spine. “Now you’ll pay the price.”

In that instant, Nyra understood the truth. She wasn’t just a survivor any longer. She was fired—the last member of a family that had once burned brightly. The last hope the Empire would someday regret.

With this realization came a clarity about what she needed to do.

She would burn them to the ground.

As the flames shot outwards, Nyra’s world spiraled into chaos. The peaceful life she had known was gone, replaced with something far more dangerous—a life marked by fire, revenge, and the heavy weight of destiny. She had lost everything once before. This time, she’d make sure the Empire would lose just as much, if not more.

Ahead lay a treacherous path filled with enemies and future allies who'd likely pull her in all sorts of strange directions. But fear had never ruled her heart.

Now, the fire was hers to command.

As the flames crackled around her, the night air felt heavy, each snap of burning wood echoing like a desperate cry. Eirenth Hollow was going up in smoke, and Nyra was caught in the middle of it all. The ash floated in the air, swirling like wintry snowflakes, but there was nothing comforting about this chaos. The smoke hung thick, stinging her eyes and making each breath a struggle. Up above, the sky was a dark mess, the stars completely obscured by the clouds of smoke. The only thing lighting up the distance was the furious, fiery glow of the blaze, casting shadows that danced and writhed as if they were alive.

Nyra was sprinting for her life.

Every breath felt like glass tearing at her lungs, sharp and painful. Her legs dragged, weighed down like they were stuck in mud, and her feet were bruised and scraped from dodging through the sharp branches and thick bushes. The sounds of chaos behind her shifted over time. The shouts of soldiers that had chased her morphed into