Fog surges over the cliffs in a way that makes no sense. It rolls thick and fast, dragging itself upward toward the temple instead of drifting south the way it always does at this hour. The air tastes of salt. Sharp on her tongue.

  Another tremor hits. This one snaps through the stone with enough force to rattle her teeth. The carved stars set into the dome flare in a pale burst, flicker once, then dim again. The vibration climbs her legs and settles in her chest.

  A scream cuts through the quiet. Then another. The sound multiplies, climbing over itself until it fills everything.

  Seren runs to the balcony rail. Her fingers grip the cold stone as she leans forward. Below, the courtyard dissolves into panic. White-robed acolytes sprint through fog that swallows them whole. Dark shapes move inside it, fast and too certain, figures she cannot make out. Her blood goes cold.

  The floor shudders again. A crack splits the marble under her feet. Wards flash bright blue in a desperate flare before they fracture into dust. The sanctum stands unprotected.

  She turns back, pulse hammering. “What is happening. Who are they.”

  Elaria’s voice stays steady. Steel under every word. “We are out of time for questions. You must take the Starfire.”

  Seren stares at her. Disbelief slices straight through the fear. “No. I cannot.”

  “You must.” The High Priestess’s tone leaves no room for argument. “If they take it, everything is lost. It called to you. You are the only one it will trust.”

  The Starfire hovers above its pedestal, steady despite the tremors. Seren steps toward it. Her hands tremble. “You want me to run,” she says, voice thin, “with this. Alone.”

  Elaria meets her eyes, calm in a way that frightens Seren more than the screams outside. “I want you to fulfill your destiny, as I must fulfill mine. That is all there is left to do.”

  A crash echoes from below. Firelight flickers under the chamber door.

  Seren reaches forward. The Starfire rises into her palms, warm and solid, pulsing in a rhythm that locks onto her heartbeat. The moment her skin meets its glow, her Soul Fire lashes upward, a surge of heat that steals her breath. Then it settles, deep beneath her ribs.

  The chamber doors thunder with heavy blows. The enemy is almost through.

  Elaria draws her hood up. “Go south to Solmaris. Find Father Rodrick at the high temple. Take the back stairs behind the door in the study. Do not look back.”

  Seren tightens her arms around the relic. There is no time for fear. She runs past Elaria, crosses the study, and pulls the hidden door open.

  Behind her, the sanctum doors burst wide as she throws herself into the stairwell. Stone shakes. Dust rains down. Voices shout above her, sharp and close. Smoke rolls into the shaft, thick enough to sting her nose.

  Something cold brushes against her soul. A presence like ice. The Starfire burns hotter in response. The heat pushes back the chill and steadies her steps as the stairs quake.

  She runs faster. The first side passage appears ahead and she swerves into it, heading toward the main temple.

  At the door, she presses her palm to the iron sigil and whispers the words of opening. For a moment nothing happens. Then light cuts through the metal and the lock clicks free. She slips through as the door seals behind her.

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  Smoke fills the corridor. Heavy. Hot. Murals of saints lie shattered along the walls, their painted faces cracked. Fallen statues crowd the path, their hands and heads broken from their bodies.

  Seren keeps low. The Starfire’s glow spills across the ruined stone as she moves. When she reaches the cloisters, she stops hard.

  Bodies lie scattered across the floor. Robes soaked dark. Hands still folded. Mouths frozen mid-prayer. Her throat closes. Her legs refuse to move.

  A shout breaks through her shock. Boots strike stone.

  She forces herself forward.

  A handful of acolytes spill from a side passage. One she recognises, a boy with wide eyes, reaches for her. “Seren. Come with us.”

  “I cannot,” she says, her voice barely holding together. “Protect the others.”

  He hesitates for a breath, caught between instinct and duty, then turns and runs with the others. Seren watches their shapes vanish into smoke. She hopes she will see them again. She knows she will not.

  Smoke thickens in the gardens. It crawls through the trees, heavy with the stink of burning sap. Branches snap. Leaves catch fire. Birds scream as they burst upward into the haze.

  Then she hears it. A howl. Low. Guttural. Wrong.

  Dark shapes push through the rolling grey, cloaked figures with eyes glowing red. Weapons burn with black fire. They move with intent, cutting through anyone left standing. Their blades slice flesh and something deeper.

  Seren runs. Her lungs burn as the screams chase her across the shattered walkway. She veers toward the hidden gate, her sandals slipping on cracked stone.

  At the ivy wall she slaps her palm against the sigil. Nothing. No light.

  Panic climbs her throat. This should work. But the temple’s power is failing. Something is draining it.

  The Starfire hums against her palms, the sound sharp like splintered glass. Gold light spills through her fingers and spreads across the stone. The sigil flickers. Weak at first. Then brighter. Stone grinds as the passage shifts open.

  Footsteps slam against the ground behind her. Something hits the wall as she slips through the gap. The stone seals shut at her back.

  The tunnel beyond is narrow and wet. Cold air hangs still in the dark. Her footsteps echo as she runs. The Starfire lights the stone in a steady trail of gold.

  Then she hears it. The passage opening.

  Boots follow. Getting closer.

  She presses herself into a break in the wall, curling around the relic and her robes to hide its glow. Voices echo down the corridor, low and sharp. Two figures pass by, their cloaks brushing the stone. Red symbols burn dimly on their weapons. One pauses. Tilts its head.

  The Starfire pulses once.

  Seren holds her breath until her chest aches. She wills the glow to dim.

  They move on. Footsteps fade.

  Her breath slips out in a trembling sigh. She forces herself forward again.

  Halfway down the tunnel, it splits into three separate paths. She stops, leaning into the wall as her strength buckles. The memory of the temple rushes in. Flames. Faces she knew. The sudden silence.

  Her knees give. She sinks to the floor.

  She presses her fingers to her lips. “Flame guide you, light keep you,” she whispers. “I will carry you. Your light will not be lost.”

  The Starfire warms against her chest, steady and alive, a small heartbeat pressed into her skin.

  She forces herself upright. Her legs shake, but she stands. The leftmost tunnel will take her out. She knows this path. She used to sweep it as a novice, grumbling at the cold drafts and the long curve of stone. Now it feels like the only piece of the world she can still predict.

  Further on, the tunnel opens into morning air. Mist curls along the cliff path, pale and restless, clinging to her robes as she steps through. The sea crashes below, constant and distant.

  She pauses at the threshold. Listening.

  The bells are silent now.

  She takes one long breath. Salt. Smoke. Cold.

  The Starfire’s warmth matches her pulse. Ahead lies fog and whatever waits inside it. Behind her, the world she knew is gone.

  Seren turns from the temple and runs into the fog.