The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery red glow across the quiet village of Varinport. It was a small coastal settlement, nestled against the jagged cliffs where the waters of the Great Cinder Sea met the land. The ocean roared with a steady rhythm, as if in tune with the village itself, which had always felt both timeless and fragile.
Aelin Veyrin sat at the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling over the precipice. The wind tugged at her wild, dark hair, and the salt of the sea stung her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting the familiar scents of salt and earth fill her lungs. There was no other place she wanted to be.
The wind whispered in her ears, calling her to the sea, and for a moment, she almost believed she could hear it speaking directly to her. A part of her had always felt connected to the water, as though the world around her was more alive than most realized.
She opened her eyes and glanced toward the village below. The rooftops of Varinport were clustered together like a patchwork quilt of thatched homes, all bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the sound of laughter and music carried up from the tavern at the heart of the village.
But Aelin felt no desire to join the celebration. It had been a quiet day—a rare occasion after weeks of bad omens—and tonight, her adoptive father, Marek, was to tell her the secret he had been keeping from her. The secret about her past.
"Aelin?" A familiar voice called out from behind her.
Aelin stood quickly, startled. She turned to see Marek approaching, his broad figure silhouetted against the orange sky. His weathered face was lined with age, and his gray beard was starting to turn white. His eyes, however, remained sharp and filled with a quiet strength.
"You should come inside," Marek said gently, his voice softer than usual. "It's getting late, and there's something I need to tell you."
Aelin nodded, though she didn't move right away. Marek's tone was enough to pull her from her thoughts, but she hesitated. Something felt off tonight, as if the air itself was thick with foreboding.
"Do you know what it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Marek paused for a moment before responding. "Not yet. But it's time you learn."
Aelin's heart fluttered nervously in her chest. She had been raised by Marek, who had been more of a father to her than anyone else. But over the last few weeks, his behavior had changed—more withdrawn, more anxious. It wasn't just the nightmares that kept him awake at night. There was something else. A sense of urgency that she couldn't quite understand.
Marek's eyes shifted toward the sea, his gaze distant. "I've seen enough of this world to know when something is wrong. The winds are changing, Aelin. And you need to be prepared."
"What do you mean?" Aelin asked, her stomach twisting.
Before Marek could respond, a sharp cry split the air, followed by the distant thunder of hooves. Aelin's heart skipped a beat. The sound was coming from the direction of the village gates, a place that had always been quiet—safe.
Then she saw them. Figures moving swiftly in the twilight, shadows that were too fast and too precise to be ordinary travelers. The riders were cloaked, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods, but Aelin could feel the power in their presence.
Marek's hand shot out, gripping her arm tightly. "Get inside. Now."
Aelin's breath caught in her throat. She'd never seen him like this before—so frightened, so certain. She didn't hesitate. She turned and ran toward the village, her boots striking the ground with urgency. Marek was close behind, his footsteps heavy with purpose.
As they reached the edge of the village, the sound of horses grew louder, followed by the screech of gates being torn open. The wind shifted, carrying with it the acrid scent of smoke and the faintest traces of magic.
Aelin's heart raced. It was happening.
"Get to the house," Marek said, his voice shaking. "Hide, Aelin. Don't let them find you."
Aelin opened her mouth to protest, but Marek's stern expression silenced her. Without another word, she darted toward the side entrance of their home, slipping through the shadows to the small back door. Marek had always kept a low profile, never drawing attention to their family. But tonight, that seemed impossible.
She barely had time to catch her breath before the first of the cloaked riders appeared at the village square. Aelin watched from the window as they dismounted with eerie precision. They were not just travelers. They were soldiers.
"Shattered Order," Marek murmured from behind her, his voice thick with dread.
Aelin's mind raced. The Shattered Order were notorious—merciless men and women who had left chaos in their wake across the land. They weren't interested in gold or land. They came for something much more dangerous. Power.
And now, it seemed they had come for her.
She turned to face Marek, her eyes wide. "What do they want with me?"
Marek didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached for a small chest beneath the floorboards and opened it carefully. Inside, there was a blackened pendant, shaped like a flame, with intricate runes etched around its edges. Aelin's breath caught as she recognized it.
The pendant had always been a mystery to her, a relic she had inherited from Marek when she was a child. He had told her it was a family heirloom, but nothing more. Now, it felt like something much more.
Marek's face hardened. "It's time for you to understand, Aelin. You are the last of the Pyromancers."
Aelin's heart skipped a beat. "The Pyromancers?"
"The keepers of the Eternal Flame." Marek's voice dropped to a whisper. "The flame that once bound the balance of Kaeloria."
Aelin's mind reeled. She had always felt there was something special about her, something that set her apart. But this? The Pyromancers? The Eternal Flame?
The door to the house suddenly splintered open, and the sound of heavy boots echoed across the floor. Marek stepped in front of Aelin, his body blocking her from the intruders.
"Go!" he shouted. "Get to the woods!"
Aelin hesitated, torn between staying with the man who had raised her and running toward an uncertain future. But the flicker of torchlight outside told her there was no time to argue.
She bolted toward the back door, slipping into the night as Marek fought to hold the intruders back. The woods were close, but Aelin knew they wouldn't be safe for long. Not from the Shattered Order. And not from the dark destiny she could no longer deny.