The night sky was painted in flames.
Omala burned.
Nyssa stood at the palace balcony, the acrid scent of smoke stinging her nose. Below, the city streets were chaos—screams echoed as soldiers clad in enemy colors stormed the gates, their blades glinting under the moonlight. The siege had begun.
Her visions had warned her. She had seen the blood, the fire, the fall of Omala—yet no one had believed her.
And now, it was happening.
A loud crash snapped her from her thoughts. The doors behind her burst open, and Caelan rushed in, his armor stained with battle.
"Nyssa, we need to move!" he shouted, grabbing her wrist.
She resisted. "The people—"
"There's no time! Varyn's forces are inside the palace!"
Her heart clenched. Varyn. He had done this. He had waited for the perfect moment, striking when Omala was weakest.
Nyssa gritted her teeth. If this was her destiny—if her visions were leading her here—then she would not go down without a fight.
She turned, her voice steady. "Then let's make him regret it."
The halls of the palace were no longer safe. Every corridor was lined with fallen guards, their blood staining the golden floors.
Nyssa and Caelan moved swiftly, dodging enemy patrols as they made their way to the throne room.
"We have to get to the king," Caelan muttered.
But as they rounded the last corner, their hopes shattered.
The throne room doors stood open—and inside, King Alden knelt before Lord Varyn.
Nyssa's breath caught.
The king's crown lay at his feet. His robes were torn, his face bruised, yet he still held himself proudly.
Varyn stepped closer, his sword gleaming as he tilted the blade under the king's chin. "Your reign ends tonight."
Nyssa saw it before it happened.
The flicker of the future—blood, cold steel, silence.
She ran forward. "No!"
But it was too late.
With a single stroke, Varyn's sword cut through the air—
And Omala's king fell.
"No," Nyssa whispered, her knees threatening to buckle.
Caelan grabbed her, pulling her back. "Nyssa, we have to go—now!"
Tears burned in her eyes, but she forced herself to move. She turned, running through the hidden passage Caelan led her to. Behind her, the throne room was filled with enemy soldiers.
They had lost the battle.
Omala had fallen.
But the war was not over.
And as Nyssa fled into the darkness, one thought burned in her mind.
She would make Varyn pay.