The Night of White Flames (Part 1)
The storm broke over the capital like a wounded beast. Lightning carved open the black sky, its glow spreading across the city's marble towers, gilded archways, and ancient bridges that curved like the ribs of a sleeping titan. The air tasted of iron—war had arrived long before the first blow was ever struck. Elara could feel it in her bones. She stood on the highest balcony of the Temple of Vows, her silver hair plastered to her cheeks as rain gathered in cold rivulets down her spine. Below her stretched the courtyard—the one place in the entire kingdom where promises became law. It was where kings, generals, and gods had once carved their oaths into stone. Tonight, the stone felt alive. "He's coming," Elara whispered, fingers tightening on the balustrade. Not Bill. Something far older. Something that had woken the moment she became bound to the War God's destiny. The torches surrounding the courtyard flickered violently. White flames—unnatural and silent—sprang up from the braziers and raced along the marble floor like veins of living light. Rain hissed as it struck them. Yet they did not dim. A presence pressed against her chest, heavy and consuming. Then—The world trembled. A figure stepped out of the white fire. Seven feet tall, carved from shadow and stardust, his armor etched with runes older than any empire. His eyes—void black with rings of molten gold—locked onto Elara as if she were the only soul that had ever lived.
The First War God. The origin of the vow. Her breath vanished. "You have awakened my legacy," the god rumbled, voice like thunder grinding against stone. "You stand in a place where mortals kneel. And yet… you do not kneel." Elara's hands shook. Not from fear—but fury. "Your vow is killing Bill," she shot back. "Your legacy is dragging him into madness. If you came for me, say it. If you came for him… you'll go through me first." The god tilted his head, considering her boldness. "Elara of the Rose House," he said slowly, "the bond you share with the War God heir is incomplete. Fragile. It will break before the storm that follows." "I won't let it break." The god's eyes narrowed. "You misunderstand. You are the break." The wind howled. Marble cracked beneath her feet. The white flames swirled around the god like a cyclone forming its heart. He reached out a hand—massive, burning with divine power.
"Come," he commanded. "Your destiny is not beside the War God… but above him." Elara stepped back. "That's not my destiny." "Then watch your world burn," the god growled. "Your refusal carries a cost." Lightning split the sky again— And Bill appeared in the courtyard. Soaked, panting, eyes blood-red with the power inside him barely restrained. His blade gleamed like a shard of night. "Elara!" he roared. His aura exploded outward, violent enough to shake the temple walls. The First War God turned slowly toward him, amusement flashing across his godlike face. "So," the deity murmured, "my descendant has arrived." Bill's grip tightened on his sword. "Step away from her." The god raised an eyebrow. "You command me?" "I don't care if you are the first, the last, or the only god left," Bill snarled. "No one touches her." The air turned lethal. Rain froze mid-fall.
Power crackled between the two beings—one a god, one a man born to dethrone him. Elara's heartbeat thundered in her ears. Bill took a step. The god lifted a hand. And in the next instant, Bill was slammed to his knees—crushing force pinning him like an insect under the boot of heaven. Elara screamed— "STOP!" Her voice shattered the storm. But the god didn't release him. Instead, he leaned forward, gaze burning into her soul. "This is the price of your defiance," he said coldly. "You choose love over destiny. Then you will watch destiny destroy the man you love." Elara's breath stopped. Her world narrowed. Her heart cracked— And she made a choice that would change the war forever. She stepped between Bill and the War God. Her palm pressed to the god's chest. And the flames exploded.
Part 2: The Night of White Flames (Part 2)
The moment Elara's hand touched the god's chest, the world detonated. Not with heat. Not with pain. But with memory. Images burst into her mind—fragments of a past that wasn't hers: A battlefield soaked in immortal blood. A goddess with eyes like the moon, smiling through her tears. A war god kneeling before her, whispering: "I vow my victory to you." The vow that doomed an empire. The vow that birthed Bill's curse. The vow that was now binding itself to Elara. "No—" she gasped, trying to pull away. "Stop—!" But the deity's hand snapped around her wrist. "You reach for what is mine," the First War God growled. "That has a price." White fire coiled around her arm like a serpent, sending icy-hot pulses through her veins. Her knees hit the ground as the divine presence surged into her chest, trying to anchor itself, trying to claim her. "Elara!" Bill's voice tore through the storm, strained with agony. "Get away from him!" The god didn't even glance at him. "She stands between us," the deity said, voice low. "She invites the bond." "I didn't invite anything!" Elara choked, struggling against the divine grip. "Let—me—go!" Her body shook violently as the flames carved sigils across her skin—markings meant for gods, not mortals.
Bill roared. Power erupted from him in a violent wave, the kind that cracked marble and shattered ancient pillars. His sword glowed, alive with unrestrained fury. With the full force of the War God's bloodline, he launched at the deity— But a wall of white fire surged between them. Bill's blade struck it— And shattered. "No—no—no—no—!" Bill stared at the broken fragments, disbelief turning to rage boiling over his skin. The god finally turned his head. "You are unworthy." Bill's vision reddened. The curse inside him clawed against his ribs, begging to be unleashed. Darkness seeped through the whites of his eyes, veins pulsing with unstable power. "You touch her one more time," he growled, "and I don't care if you're the first War God—I'll kill you." The deity's amusement vanished. "You threaten me for her?" "I breathe for her." Something flickered in the god's expression—surprise, then something colder. "Then watch what your devotion destroys."
The god snapped his fingers. Elara screamed as the divine fire wrapped around her heart. Her vision blurred. Every nerve burned. She tasted ash and lightning and her own blood. Bill lunged— Only for the god to release her. But not gently. He threw her. Elara's body slammed into the temple steps, stone cracking beneath her. Pain flared across her ribs. She gasped, trying to push herself up— But the white fire had branded her chest. The sigil glowed through her dress like a living star, radiating heat. Bill's mind snapped.
"ELARA!" The curse erupted entirely. Bill moved faster than sight, faster than thought. One moment he stood across the courtyard— the next he had the god by the throat, lifting him a full foot off the ground. The sky screamed. The storm convulsed. And the god—the god—actually looked shocked. Bill's voice was not human. Not sane. Not gentle. "Touch her again," he snarled, "and I will erase you." The deity's eyes narrowed. "You have awakened the Black Vow." Elara forced herself upright despite the pain crushing her chest."The what—?" she rasped.
The god's voice boomed with ancient authority: "The War God's final oath. A vow born only when power meets despair. A vow that destroys gods… and the one who wields it." Bill didn't care. "You're done," he growled. The god smiled darkly. "No, heir. We have only begun." He vanished—not fled, not ran—simply disappeared, dissolving into white fire. Bill stumbled forward, his rage collapsing into raw panic. "Elara—Elara—" He dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking violently as he cupped her face. Her skin burned with divine heat. Her pulse flickered beneath his touch. The sigil on her chest pulsed in rhythm with the white flames that still lingered in the air. "Elara, look at me," Bill said, voice cracking. "Stay awake. Stay with me." She tried to speak. Blood touched her lips. "Bill…" Her voice was barely a breath. "I think he marked me." Bill's lungs froze. Marked. Claimed. Bound to a god. A mark mortals never survived. "Elara," he whispered, terror replacing rage, "don't you dare leave me." Her fingers brushed his cheek. "You made a vow," she whispered weakly. "Keep it." Her eyes fluttered. Her hand fell. And the sigil on her chest flared blinding white— Right before her entire body went still.
Part 3: The Night of White Flames
For one long, impossible moment… the world held its breath. Elara lay motionless in Bill's arms, the sigil on her chest still glowing with a cold, god-forged fire. Her skin was pale—too pale—her heartbeat so faint he could barely sense it. Bill pressed his forehead to hers, hands trembling violently. "No. No. No." His voice broke. "Elara, wake up. Please… wake up." He shook her gently, then desperately. Nothing. Her lips were blue. Her breaths shallow. Her pulse fading. The world around him blurred. The courtyard, the shattered pillars, the sky still swirling with godly fire—everything dissolved beneath the weight of his terror.
"Bill…" A voice in his head—low, ancient, mocking. The First War God. "A mortal cannot carry my mark. She will burn from the inside out. Unless…" A pause filled with cruel satisfaction. "You fulfill the vow." Bill snarled, teeth bared. "You're not touching her again." "You misunderstand, heir. The vow destined for the goddess you loved is now carved into your mortal. She carries a divine burden meant for immortals. You want her to live…?" Bill's grip tightened around Elara. "Tell me," he hissed. "Tell me what I have to do." The god's voice wrapped around him like a serpent. "Break the Black Vow." Bill froze. Every god knew the truth: A Black Vow could only be broken in two ways— Kill the god who initiated it… or Kill the one who carries the divine mark. Bill's breath stilled. Elara's life flickered weakly against his chest. His vision blurred, fury and anguish twisting together until everything inside him felt like a screaming storm. "You want me to kill her?" he whispered, voice raw. "Never. I will never—" "Then kill me." The storm above trembled as the god's presence thickened in the air. "Take my life, War God. Break the vow. Save your mortal."
Bill's pulse thundered. "You think I can't kill you?" he growled. "I'll rip your throne apart and bury your empire if I have to." A low, amused rumble shook the sky. "I am counting on it." A pause. "But each moment you hesitate… she dies. "Bill looked down at Elara. Her eyelashes fluttered weakly—barely. Her lips moved without sound. Her body shivered with the cold fire burning inside her. He pressed a shaking kiss to her forehead. "I'm going to fix this," he whispered. "I swear it on my life. On my power. On everything I am." He lifted her gently into his arms. Tlhe sigil on her chest pulsed once. Then again—slower."Please," he breathed. "Elara, hold on." Her eyes cracked open—just barely. "B… Bill…" His entire body went still. "I'm here," he whispered. "Stay with me." "It… hurts…" she breathed, voice tiny and broken. "Everything… hurts…" Bill's heart shattered. "I know. I know. I'm going to save you." Her fingers weakly gripped his sleeve. "Don't… leave me…" His throat tightened painfully. "I won't," he whispered fiercely. "Never." She tried to smile—failed. "Cold…" she murmured, eyes slipping once more.
Bill felt something inside him fracture. Not power. Not rage. Something deeper. Something terrifying. He stood, cradling her close, eyes burning with a fury that shook the ruined courtyard. The sky above responded—clouds swirling, thunder splitting across the heavens as if reality itself was afraid of him. "Listen to me," he growled at the empty air, speaking to the god. "You want war? You want the heir? You want me to hunt you across realms?" He looked down at the dying woman in his arms. "I'll do worse." His voice dropped into something cold, lethal, and absolute. "I will break the heavens. I will burn your temples. I will tear your immortality apart piece by piece." A breath. "But first… I'm going to keep her alive." The mark on Elara's chest flickered dangerously—white flame turning unstable. Bill didn't hesitate. He vanished—warping through space, tearing the world open with a raw surge of power—and reappeared at the one place no War God had ever dared return. The Forbidden Sanctuary of the Fallen. Home of exiled deities. A place where god-marks were healed… or consumed. Lightning exploded around him as he crossed the threshold. Elara's body went limp. Her heartbeat faltered. Bill roared, his voice shattering the ancient silence of the sanctuary. "SOMEONE HELP HER!" The echo of his cry rolled through the divine ruins. And something answered. A pale, feminine voice whispered from the darkness— "I warned you she would be your weakness." Bill's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. Every god did. The Fallen Queen—the one deity even the First War God feared. And her footsteps drew closer.
End of chapter 10