The storm had passed, leaving only silence and the scent of rain. The ruined coast shimmered beneath a bruised dawn sky, waves lapping softly against jagged stones.
Eric stirred awake to the faint crackle of fire. Seraphina sat a few steps away, her back to him, her silver hair glowing faintly in the early light. She had conjured a small flame in her palm—one that danced with golden sparks rather than red. It didn't burn the air around her; it pulsed like a heartbeat.
He sat up slowly. "You didn't sleep."
"I couldn't." Her voice was low, steady, but heavy with something unsaid. "The moment I close my eyes… I see them again."
Eric rose and joined her by the fire. "The dragons we fought?"
"No," she whispered. "My family."
The wind shifted. For a while, neither spoke. Only the sea filled the space between their thoughts. Then, slowly, Seraphina lifted her hand. The fire in her palm shimmered, twisting into shapes — silhouettes of dragons soaring through light and shadow.
"This flame," she said softly, "isn't just magic. It's memory. It burns as long as I remember where I came from."
Eric stayed silent, sensing that she needed to let the memories speak for her.
---
Flashback
Centuries ago, deep within the floating citadel of Veythar, the kingdom of dragons glittered like molten gold suspended in the clouds. Towers carved from obsidian pierced the sky, and rivers of lava flowed through glass channels beneath the marble floors. It was a kingdom of flame, ruled by the most powerful being to ever bear the title Drakonis — the Father of Dragons.
And Seraphina had been his only daughter.
She remembered being a child of both awe and fear. The palace halls echoed with roars and whispers. Every servant bowed too low; every gaze held too long. For even then, the mark of the curse glowed faintly on her skin — a spiral of fire etched across her shoulder, said to be born from the first breath of the Flame God.
Her father called it a blessing.
Her mother, before she disappeared, had called it a chain.
Seraphina's earliest memory was of watching her father burn a rebel dragon to ash — not out of justice, but rage. "The weak do not deserve wings," he had said. She had flinched, hiding behind a marble pillar, trembling at the sight of what her bloodline truly meant.
Years passed. Her power grew, but so did her doubts. She was forbidden from mingling with the lesser dragons, taught that mortals were beneath her. Yet every time she looked down from the citadel at the green valleys below, she wondered what kind of world existed beyond the clouds — one where flame did not mean fear.
One night, she found it.
A mortal bard, captured and thrown into the citadel dungeon for trespassing. He sang songs even in chains — of oceans, starlight, and love stronger than death. His name was Kael, and his defiance fascinated her.
For months, she visited him in secret, listening, learning of the world her father despised. She began to question everything she'd been taught. But when her father discovered the truth, the punishment was cruel and swift.
Kael was executed before her eyes.
And she — powerless to stop it — unleashed a scream that shook the heavens. Fire erupted from her wings, consuming half the citadel. That was the first time her curse awakened — the Blood of Drakonis.
It was then she understood: her lineage was not a blessing. It was a prison of fire that destroyed everything she loved.
---
Present
Eric's breath caught as she fell silent. The fire in her palm dimmed to a fragile ember. "You lost someone," he said quietly.
Seraphina nodded, her eyes fixed on the sea. "He was human. Like you. I thought I could change my father's heart by showing him compassion existed beyond the bloodline. Instead, I gave him another reason to hate mankind."
Her voice broke. "That's why I ran. Why I swore never to love again. But then—"
She looked at him.
Eric felt his chest tighten. "Then you met me."
A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "And the curse began to stir again. Every time I use my power near you, it burns differently — not with rage, but… longing. It's the same fire that destroyed Kael, yet somehow, you make it feel alive again."
Eric reached for her hand, gently closing her fingers around his. "Maybe it isn't a curse, Seraphina. Maybe your flame just needs a reason not to destroy."
Her golden eyes met his, wide and trembling. "And you would risk being that reason?"
"I already am."
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, without a word, she leaned into him — her forehead against his chest, her voice a whisper. "You're either the bravest man I've ever met… or the most foolish."
He smiled faintly. "Why can't I be both?"
---
The fire burned lower as dawn broke across the horizon. They sat together, listening to the crash of waves. The memories had left her drained, but something in her gaze had changed — softer, clearer, steadier.
She rose to her feet, facing the rising sun. "I know what we must do."
Eric followed. "Tell me."
She turned to him, the wind catching her hair, her expression resolute. "My father's power isn't endless. It comes from the Heart of Pyraeus — an ancient crystal buried beneath the citadel. It fuels his immortality and binds the dragons to his will. If we destroy it, we sever his dominion."
"Destroy it?" Eric echoed. "Can that even be done?"
"Not by me," she said. "But maybe… by us."
Her gaze softened. "You carry the shard of my fire now, Eric. When I healed you in the forest weeks ago, I gave you part of my essence. That's why you can withstand my magic. That's why the flames didn't kill you."
Eric blinked. "So I'm—"
"Connected to me," she finished. "In more ways than you realize."
He took a slow breath. "Then we use that bond. Together."
Seraphina nodded, but her expression darkened. "There's one more thing you must understand. If we destroy the Heart of Pyraeus… my father will die — but so will every dragon bound to his bloodline."
Eric froze. "Including you?"
She looked away. "Including me."
The words hung in the air like the last note of a requiem. The waves crashed harder, the sea growing restless.
He reached out, gripping her shoulders firmly. "Then we'll find another way."
"There is no other way," she said, her voice shaking. "I've searched for centuries."
"Then I'll search with you."
She blinked, stunned by the fierce determination in his tone. "Eric…"
He took her hand, pressing it to his heart. "You said once that your flame remembers where you came from. Then let it remember this — not pain, not loss, but hope. We'll end his tyranny. And when we do, I'll find a way to bring you back."
For the first time since she began speaking, Seraphina's eyes filled not with sorrow, but something else — belief. "You'd defy fate itself for me?"
He smiled. "I already started when I fell in love with you."
She laughed softly — a sound both broken and beautiful. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again, slow and trembling, as if sealing a promise neither of them fully understood.
When they finally pulled apart, the horizon burned crimson with dawnlight.
"We have to move," she said. "Before his scouts find us again."
"Where do we go?"
"To the ruins of Drathmor Keep," she answered. "There are dragons there who still believe in freedom. They once rebelled against my father before the war. If anyone can help us… it's them."
Eric tightened his grip on his sword. "Then let's find your allies."
Seraphina nodded, wings unfolding behind her once more. As they stepped into the rising wind, she looked back one last time — at the sea, the ashes, and the ghosts of her past.
Then, with a whisper that sounded almost like a prayer, she said, "This time, the fire will burn for freedom."
And together, they took flight toward the dawn.