The moon hung high over the Academy of the Seven Towers, casting a silver sheen across shattered rooftops and smoking ruins. Beneath its pale gaze, the ashes of battle settled into silence. But for Rey Drakar, the fire had just begun to burn.Blood still crusted his knuckles as he made his way through the debris-choked corridors of the western archive wing—the one Drax had claimed was forbidden to students. Behind him walked Zayne, eyes narrowed, and Lyra, her soul newly purged and still flickering faintly with dragonfire.The trail had begun with whispers—rumors of a sealed vault beneath the old lecture halls. Elira’s half-conscious visions had confirmed it: "He keeps it in the dark… the proof… the truth of who watches you from the shadows."And now, here they were."Here," Lyra whispered, touching the wall where a scorch mark formed a perfect circle. Emberclaw glowed on Rey’s back, humming like a warning.Rey nodded. He drew the blade, letting its heat pulse through the air, and sla

The dawn after Kaelus Drakar's defeat broke in bloody streaks over the battered skyline of the Academy. Smoke still curled from the scorched towers, and the scent of ash clung stubbornly to the air. Rey stood in the courtyard where Kaelus had fallen, the ground beneath his feet stained with the blood of a traitor and the heat of a thousand years of vengeance.He had unmasked the Obsidian High Executioner. He had struck down his own blood. And now, everything had changed.Rey’s gaze drifted over his companions—Zayne, his brother-in-arms with fire newly kindled in his soul; Lyra, soul-purged, her draconic essence now blazing behind her fierce eyes; Elira, still recovering from her collapse but walking once more in waking visions; and the others—Aeris, solemn and cold, who had returned after walking the edge of loyalty.They stood together not as students, not as rebels, but as the last hope for the Flameborne.“We can’t win alone,” Rey said. His voice cracked with the weight of realizat

The morning skies over the Flameborne camp glowed an ominous red—the kind of red that foretold bloodshed. Rey stood atop the rise overlooking Crimson Gate, his cloak flapping in the sharp wind, Emberclaw perched silently beside him. The sprawling city on the other side of the valley, once a bastion of the Empire's pride, now pulsed with anticipation, every watchtower bristling with archers and magitek cannons."It’s time," Zayne said behind him, armored and cloaked in war paint.Rey didn't answer immediately. He could feel it—something ancient in the stones of the gate, whispering warnings into his very bones.Lyra joined them. Her soul-purge ritual had left her changed. Her eyes glowed faintly gold, her voice deeper, her aura darker and more commanding. "We must move before nightfall. The rebels from the east are in position. The river flank is ready."Rey finally nodded. "Then let the siege begin."Part I: Thunder Before the StormThe Flameborne army descended like shadows—silent, p

The chamber still reverberated with the thunderous echo of the Council’s verdict. Divine Rule. Solaria’s scarlet eyes glittered like twin suns behind storm-clouds, her monstrous wings stretching wide, throwing fractured shadows across the marble floor. For the first time in millennia, the Council bowed not to an emperor, not to a general, but to a queen they now regarded as divinity incarnate.Rey’s heart hammered in his chest, each beat like a war drum calling him to arms. He had stood frozen, watching the Council crumble beneath Solaria’s gaze. They had surrendered not just their power, but the will of the realm itself. His fists clenched. We fought, we bled, we rose against tyrants, only to be handed to a dragon in a woman’s flesh.But as the chamber emptied and the loyalists bent the knee, Rey felt something else stirring in the marrow of his bones. A coldness. A shifting. A shadow whispering on the air.“Do you feel that?” Seraphina’s echo murmured from the amulet against his che

The rebellion camp had finally quieted after days of restless movements. Crimson fires smoldered in the watchtowers, and Rey sat beneath the shattered banner of his ancestors, his hands clenched around the hilt of his blade. He had barely closed his eyes when it came.Not a dream—something heavier. A pressure, like molten iron poured directly into his skull. Darkness stretched, vast and endless, then coalesced into a single burning eye. Its iris swirled crimson and black, devouring the starlight.The Eye of Sorrows.Rey staggered inside the dreamscape, but his body remained locked in his bedroll outside. He heard voices—his enemies, his allies, his dead family—all screaming through the Eye.“Bow, Rey,” the voice of Solaria whispered, both honey and venom. “Or I will peel you apart from the inside.”Rey fell to his knees. The dream did not obey him—it bound him. He felt fire crawling into his veins, and then—he felt Seren.“Rey, don’t!” Seren’s voice came like a silver bell through the