2025-11-19 16:44:19The night had barely settled when the flames returned to the sky—brighter, hotter, and far more controlled than before. This time, they did not streak like falling stars or distant omens. They descended with intention.
Like a verdict from the heavens.
Rylan stood in front of their small wooden home, chest heaving as he stared upward. Seraphina clutched the twins behind him, her body trembling not from fear—but from a pain she knew was coming.
The Phoenix Clan had come for her.
And they would not leave empty-handed.
The flaming clouds parted, revealing a formation of immortal soldiers clad in molten-gold armor. Each bore wings of living flame, feathers flickering like miniature suns as they soared downward in disciplined rows.
The villagers collapsed to their knees, shielding their faces.
Rylan did not kneel.
Seraphina did not kneel.
The twins, too young to understand, only whimpered as the heat pressed down on them.
A thunderous voice boomed across the village:
“Seraphina Phoenix. You have violated the sacred decree.”
From the sky descended a grand procession—massive phoenix-beasts, radiant banners, and an ornate palanquin forged entirely of red-gold firestone.
When the palanquin touched the earth, the flames withdrew in elegant spirals, revealing an Elder whose mere presence distorted the air—Elder Vaelion, High Seat of the Phoenix Council.
His eyes glowed with eternal flame. His voice was law itself.
“Seraphina,” he said coldly, “your rebellion ends tonight.”
The Demands of the Phoenix Clan
Seraphina stepped forward, forcing herself between Rylan and the Elders. Her lips trembled.
“Elder Vaelion… I did not flee out of rebellion. I fled because I sought my own life. My own heart.”
Vaelion’s fiery gaze slid toward Rylan with disdain.
“You mistake your privilege for freedom,” he said. “And you have tainted your sacred bloodline with a mortal nobody.”
Rylan’s fists clenched.
Elder Vaelion ignored him.
“The Council has already chosen your rightful suitor—the next Patriarch of the Vermillion Flame Sect. Your marriage is a matter of inter-realm stability. Not desire.”
Seraphina’s eyes burned with defiance.
“I will never marry that man. My heart belongs to Rylan.”
A ripple of shocked gasps came from the soldiers. Even the phoenix-beasts hissed in agitation.
Rylan felt both pride and dread crash inside him. He stepped beside his wife.
“You heard her,” he said firmly. “We’re a family now. Leave.”
The villagers watched in stunned horror as a mere mortal addressed the Phoenix Clan like equals.
The Clash
Elder Vaelion raised his hand.
A sphere of condensed flame formed above his palm—small, yet radiating enough heat to melt stone.
“This union is forbidden,” he said. “And you—mortal—stand in the way of destiny.”
Seraphina stepped in front of Rylan, wings of pale flame erupting behind her in a defensive arc.
“Elder, please!” she cried. “Do not harm him!”
But the flame moved.
And so did Rylan.
He shoved Seraphina aside just as the fire sphere shot forward.
The impact struck him in the chest like a blazing hammer. His body flew backward, crashing through the wooden wall of their home.
“RYLAN!” Seraphina screamed, rushing toward him.
The twins began to cry in her arms, their unstable energies trembling.
Elder Vaelion’s expression remained unmoved.
“Your mortal lover should have stayed silent.”
The villagers watched helplessly, too terrified to intervene. The heat from the soldiers scorched the earth; approaching was impossible.
Rylan lay in the wreckage of their home, gasping for air. His chest smoked. His shirt had burned away, revealing blackened skin and deep glowing cracks where the Phoenix Elder’s flame had pierced him.
Seraphina fell to her knees beside him, tears spilling onto his wounds. Her tears sizzled, turning into tiny sparks of golden light.
Rylan forced a smile through the agony.
“I… told you… I’d protect you.”
“Idiot!” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his. “You’re supposed to protect yourself too!”
Behind them, the Phoenix soldiers formed a circle of flame.
Elder Vaelion spoke again, voice like molten iron:
“Seraphina. Abandon this foolishness and return. Or I will burn this village to ash, and take you regardless.”
Seraphina clutched the twins tighter. Her wings flickered, unstable and trembling. She wanted to fight—she could fight—but with newborns in her arms, she was divided, weakened.
And the Elders knew it.
Elder Vaelion extended his hand.
“Give me the children.”
Seraphina’s blood froze. “No! They’re mine!”
“Children of the Phoenix line belong to the Clan,” he corrected. “Especially abominations born of mixed power.”
Lyra’s shadows coiled protectively around Seraphina’s arm. Arin’s tiny flames burned brightly, responding to the threat instinctively.
“Do not call them that,” Seraphina hissed.
But Vaelion merely stepped forward, expression cold as celestial judgment.
“Your defiance shames us all.”
The Breaking Point
Rylan struggled to stand, using a shattered beam for leverage. His vision blurred, but his resolve did not.
“Touch them… and I swear… I’ll kill you.”
The soldiers laughed. Even some phoenix-beasts tilted their heads mockingly.
“A mortal speaking of killing an Elder?” Vaelion said. “You cannot even withstand a fraction of my flame.”
“Maybe not,” Rylan rasped, coughing blood. “But I’ll try.”
Seraphina grabbed his arm, voice breaking. “Please, stop. You’ll die.”
“I already took my vows,” he whispered. “If they want you… they’ll have to take me first.”
Vaelion sighed in annoyance.
“I grow tired of this.”
With a flick of his fingers, he summoned a second orb of flame—larger, brighter, enough to kill this time.
Seraphina screamed. “NO!”
She unleashed a burst of phoenix fire—white-hot and desperate—but three Phoenix Guards intercepted her, forcing her backward, separating her from Rylan.
The twins cried louder, their energies crackling dangerously.
Rylan braced himself, ready to face death.
The orb soared toward him—
But at that precise instant, the crying twins’ energies surged.
A blast of golden flame collided with swirling shadow-fire, exploding outward in a massive shockwave.
The Elder’s attack was swallowed.
Even Vaelion stumbled.
For the briefest moment, silence.
The villagers stared, speechless.
The newborn twins had stopped an Elder’s offensive.
“That power…” Vaelion whispered, eyes narrowing. “So the prophecy was true.”
Cliffhanger
Elder Vaelion raised his hand high.
“SEIZE THEM ALL!”
Flaming chains shot from the soldiers, wrapping around Seraphina’s arms. She screamed as the bindings scorched her skin, forcing her to drop forward.
Rylan, barely conscious, reached toward her.
“Sera…”
The twins howled, flames and shadows bursting uncontrollably.
But one chain shot downward—
and wrapped around the infants.
Seraphina’s scream shattered the night.
“NO—NOT MY CHILDREN!”
The Phoenix Clan lifted the babies into the air, their cries echoing through the burning village as the soldiers ascended.
Rylan tried to stand, but blood splashed from his lips.
And Elder Vaelion delivered the final decree:
“By order of the Phoenix Council, the Heavenfire Twins are hereby taken.”
As Seraphina lunged forward, the Elders surrounded her—
And the sky swallowed her children whole.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 13 — The Slum’s Three Friends
The slums were louder than usual that morning—shouts from street vendors, the clang of broken pots, the distant laughter of children pretending they weren’t starving. But beneath the noise, Arin felt a tension lurking in the air. As if the world itself was holding its breath after the strange symbol had appeared on their wall the night before.He kept Lyra close as they made their way toward the water barrels. Their shelter was no longer safe. They needed information—and allies.Whether he liked it or not.Lyra tugged on his sleeve. “Do you think someone will help us?”Arin hesitated. Help was hard to come by in the slums. But there were three people—three children like them—who had crossed paths with him enough times to matter.The first appeared without warning, as always.A cold voice cut through the morning air.“You’re late. The water’s almost gone.”Arin turned.Elira stood by the barrel, pale morning light reflecting off her dark hair. Her expression was as unreadable as ever—e
Chapter 12 — Arin’s First Faint Echo
The night fell heavy over the slums, carrying an unnatural chill that seeped through broken rooftops and thin blankets. Arin lay curled on the dirt floor beside Lyra, trembling uncontrollably. Sweat drenched his forehead. His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts.A fever—violent and sudden.Lyra had begged him to rest in the warmest corner of their makeshift shelter, but warmth felt like a distant dream. Every pulse of heat sent another wave of pain through Arin’s body, as though something inside him was fighting to break free.“Arin,” Lyra whispered, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “Please stay awake. Please.”He tried to respond, but the world around him blurred into a haze of shadows and muffled sounds.His fever wasn’t normal.His visions weren’t normal.And worst of all—the presence watching them earlier still lingered in the back of his mind.Arin gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”The lie fell apart the moment it left his mouth. His body shook harder, his throat tightened, a
Chapter 11 — First Sign of Divine Bloodline
The slums woke slowly that morning, as if the sun itself hesitated to pour its light upon a place that forgot hope long ago. Thin smoke drifted from broken chimneys. Mothers shook dust from blankets. Children with hollow eyes hunted for leftover scraps from the market three streets away.But inside a narrow alley, beneath a collapsed roof held together by old rope and desperate faith, Arin and Lyra sat huddled beside a shivering stray dog.It had followed them for two days—limping, ribs showing, fur matted with dried blood. Arin had tried to scare it off at first. One more mouth meant one more problem. But Lyra… Lyra couldn’t walk away.She never could.“Arin,” she whispered, cupping the dog’s head gently. “He’s going to die.”Arin looked away. He hated this feeling—the helplessness of wanting to save but lacking the power, the food, even the freedom to try. He had nothing. He was nothing. And the world made sure he never forgot that.“We can’t save every dying thing,” Arin muttered.
Chapter 10 — Growing in Filth
The slums changed slowly—rotting boards collapsing here, a new layer of grime added there—but for Arin and Lyra, change happened whether they wanted it or not. Days turned into months; months slid into years. The world did not pause for abandoned twins.And so, they grew.Not in comfort or warmth, but in filth.The slums of Ember Hollow offered no kindness. The air always smelled of spoiled rice and smoke. Beggars fought over scraps. Children disappeared without a trace. Gangs controlled the alleys like miniature tyrants. But even in this cesspool, two small figures endured—thin, hungry, and clothed in stitched rags.Yet, they were always together.Always.At age five, Arin already possessed the shoulders and arms of a child who worked far beyond his years. Every morning, he hauled buckets of water for a local tavern in exchange for stale bread. Every afternoon, he carried wooden crates for vendors—sometimes for coins, more often for kicks to the ribs.But he didn’t complain.He could
Chapter 9 — A Miracle of Survival
The slums of Ember Hollow were places where even the moonlight hesitated to fall. Cracked rooftops leaned like broken ribs, and foul-smelling mist rose from open drains. Scavengers prowled the alleys—rats, thieves, and worse. In this forgotten corner of the realm, the cries of abandoned children were no more significant than the whistling of the wind.Tonight, however, something stirred differently.A faint, whimpering sound came from a dirty bundle near a collapsed wall. Two infants huddled together—one boy and one girl—wrapped in torn cloth that still carried the faint scent of phoenix ash. Their cheeks were smeared with dust, but their eyes glowed with unusual brilliance. The girl, Lyra, slept fitfully, clutching her brother’s sleeve. The boy, Arin, remained awake, tiny brows scrunched as though he sensed danger crawling closer.They were only a year old—soft, fragile, defenseless.Or so it seemed.A group of bandits moved through the slum path, boots splashing through muddy puddle
Chapter 8 — The Night of Abandonment
“Some stories begin with love. Theirs began with being thrown away.”Night fell harshly on Emberfall Village.A storm gathered above the rooftops, stirring dust and dead leaves through the narrow alleys. Windows shut early. Dogs hid under porches. Even the wind felt afraid.Two infants—one boy, one girl—shivered in an old wicker basket as they were carried under the cloak of darkness.Lyra’s tiny fingers clung to the frayed cloth.Arin, barely awake, whimpered against the cold.Joren Vale cursed under his breath as thunder rumbled overhead.“Damn these brats,” he spat, struggling with the basket. “Should’ve drowned them when we had the chance.”Mirra, walking beside him, hissed sharply, “Quiet! Elden said no bodies. Just leave them. Quick and clean.”“Clean?” Joren sneered. “We already burned their house.”Mirra slapped his arm. “Shut up!”Behind them, the burned remains of Rylan’s cottage still glowed faintly—embers simmering beneath the ash. The smell of smoke clung stubbornly to th
You may also like
Tales of the Slime Tamer
Rapture Tales61.4K viewsI AM DESTINY'S MISTAKE
Dere_Isaac16.6K viewsEarth Is In Trouble But With The System, Escape Earth..
Raishico13.5K viewsA Dream Harem Life Built With Superior Firepower
Runaway_Cactuar20.4K viewsXianXia : Sovereign of the Gods
kalki_gsk18.8K viewsTears Of The Last Dragon
Jovial chirpy1.7K viewsWhat do you see beyond the hill?
Kev Mbeutcha3.8K viewsRealities of Madness
Eros Zoe3.6K views