Whispers of the crimson rose

s murmured the names of the dead, and those who entered without purpose rarely returned with their minds intact. But Seraphina felt no fear as they crossed the threshold. Only a strange familia

t didn't want to harm her. It was protecting something. Or someone. At dusk, they reached a clearing. In its center stood a crumbling stone house, half-swallowed by ivy and time. "This is it," Cassian said Seraphina stepped forward-but before her foot hit the grass, a blade hissed through the air and stopped at her throat.

daughter," C

idn't lower

the pendant she wore under her tunic-the silver one with the

ng in. They know she's alive." Solen frowned. "Then we start tonight." That night, beneath the open sky and ancient trees, Solen began teaching her the old ways-how to draw power from the land, how to listen to the whispers of nature. Seraphina struggled at first, her power wild and untamed, but something deep inside her stirred. The forest responded to her voice. When she whispered an incantation, le

e flame must neve

her eyes steady. She

lowed. "This forest... it was her sanctuary." Seraphina turned, surprised. "You knew her?" Solen gave a sharp nod. "I fought beside her in the Red Rebellion. We were more than comrades. She trusted me to protect you should anything happen." Cassian stood at the door, arms crossed, eyes scanning the woods like a soldier unable to rest. He said nothing, but Seraphina could feel the