The valley’s calm shattered under a dark storm as scouts from the Ember Circle brought grim news. From the edge of the forest, a shadow grew — not natural, but alive, twisted by ancient malice.
Aria stood at the center of the Circle’s camp, the black ring heavy in her palm. Her golden flame pulsed in response to the threat — a warning.
“The Shadow Clan,” Selyra said, voice tight. “An ancient enemy of the Flameborn and Nightborn alike. They seek to consume your fire, Aria.”
Damien appeared beside her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “They will not stop until they have your blood.”
Aria’s fingers clenched around the ring. “Then we stop them first.”
The Ember Circle mobilized, warriors donning armor etched with runes of protection. As the sky darkened further, Aria felt the fire inside her
