Flamebound: Rise of the Cursed Prince

🌘 Midnight – Beneath the Old Bell Tower

Aaron waited, cloak pulled tight, back pressed to ancient stone. The envelope had led him here—to the base of a forgotten bell tower behind the Council library. No guards. No glyphs. Only silence… and shadows.

Then she appeared.

The councilwoman from before—now stripped of robes and rank—dressed in simple traveling black, her face revealed in the moonlight.

> "I suppose I should start with my name," she said.

> "I'm Mirell Vex. Eldemar blood. But that's not what matters."

Aaron crossed his arms. "Then what does?"

She handed him an old scroll.

> "Your mother's name wasn't just Elira. It was Elira Vex. She was my sister."

Aaron froze.

---

📜 The Forgotten Flame

> "They erased her after the Skyborn purge," Mirell whispered.

"She refused to give you up. They offered her silence in exchange for your name."

> "She chose flame instead."

Aaron unfolded the scroll. A faded letter—ink dim but still clear:

> "If he survives, let him remember fire not as power, but as voice."

> "Let him remember what they silence."

His hand trembled.

> "Why tell me this now?"

Mirell's voice sharpened.

> "Because someone inside the palace plans to silence the Council. Tonight."

---

🏰 Meanwhile — In the Barracks of the Royal Guard

A man clad in silver-black armor addressed his troops.

Not a general.

A captain. Known for loyalty.

But his eyes were wrong.

Too calm. Too cold.

> "The Council no longer serves the Crown," he declared.

"It serves fire. That must end."

Behind him, five elite guards nodded. One slipped a dagger into his sleeve—blade engraved with The Pale Thorn symbol.

---

🩸 Two Fires Converge

Aaron looked up at Mirell.

> "Why warn me?"

> "Because you're not just her son. You're the only fire left who remembers why this kingdom was built."

> "If the Council dies now… truth dies with it."

Aaron's flame flickered in his palm.

> "Then we don't protect them," he said.

"We expose them. All of them."

---

🔚 Final Scene

Far above, in a hidden tower, Lucien looked down at the palace.

He whispered into the ash:

> "Let the child burn what we could not."

The ash scattered.

And the war beneath the throne began.