The ruins stood silent beneath the morning mist, their jagged spires like broken fingers reaching toward the sky. Once a place of worship, now forgotten by time. Seraphina had only seen them from afar, painted in the golden edges of childhood stories. But today, for the first time, she stood at their threshold.
The stones were worn smooth, overgrown with moss and vines. Time had claimed much of their beauty, but something lingered beneath the surface—an energy, humming faintly, as if the stones themselves were remembering.
Cassian stood beside her, quiet, his sword strapped to his back. He had protested when she said she wanted to come here. But she had insisted. Something in her dreams—visions wrapped in silver fog—had pulled her toward this place.
"These ruins are older than the kingdom itself," Cassian said, breaking the silence. "They say the first king walked these halls before the mist ever rose."
Seraphina knelt by a carved stone, brushing dust away from the etchings. They were symbols, foreign yet oddly familiar, like something from the stories her mother once whispered by candlelight.
"I feel like I've been here before," she said, her voice low.
Cassian looked at her. "Maybe you have. Or maybe something here remembers you."
The air shifted.
Suddenly, a chill swept through the clearing. The wind stirred the leaves in strange spirals. The light dimmed, and Seraphina felt it again—that haunting pull, the ache of something ancient.
Her hand rested on the stone, and without thinking, she began to sing. The melody rose not from memory, but from instinct—as if the earth itself was guiding her voice.
---
Song: "Echoes in the Stone"
In the silence of the stone,
Where whispers lie and roots have grown,
I hear a voice, so faint, so far—
A broken wish beneath a star.
Who walked this path before I came?
Whose tears were carved in time and flame?
Does fate repeat what we forget?
Or is the past not finished yet?
Let the wind remember me,
Let the stone recall the sea,
Let the night unfold its tale—
Of love that lost, and hearts that fail.
But in the shadow, light can stay,
And guide a soul that's gone astray.
So if you hear this song, take care...
The truth we seek may not be fair.
---
The final note drifted into the stillness, hanging in the mist like a forgotten promise. Cassian had not moved. His gaze was fixed on her, but his eyes held something she hadn't seen before—concern… and awe.
"Where did you learn that song?" he asked, voice low.
"I didn't," Seraphina said quietly. "It just... came."
Cassian stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seraphina, these ruins—they're not just ruins. They belonged to the Fallen King. This is where it all began."
She froze. "You knew?"
"I had my suspicions. But that song... it confirms it." His jaw tightened. "You're connected to this, more than I ever realized."
Seraphina's heart pounded. She turned her face away, unsure if it was the mist making her dizzy or the weight of his words. "Then tell me everything, Cassian. No more secrets."
He hesitated. Then finally: "Your mother once warned me never to bring you here. She said this place would awaken something in you. Something she feared."
Seraphina looked at him sharply. "Why would she fear me?"
"She didn't fear you," he said gently. "She feared what was left behind."
---
They walked deeper into the ruins, neither speaking for a time. Seraphina's thoughts swirled. Why had her mother hidden this from her? Why did this place call to her like a memory she never made?
As they passed through an archway, Seraphina stopped. A single stone stood at the center of the chamber, cracked down the middle. And carved into it—barely visible—was the same symbol from her dreams.
Cassian reached for her arm. "We shouldn't stay here long. Whatever power is left in this place… it's watching."
"Let it watch," Seraphina whispered. "I want it to know I'm not afraid."
Cassian looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Then we'll face it together."
---
Back in the palace, the sky began to darken—not from clouds, but from something heavier. A change. A stir in the air. Far beyond the kingdom, in the deepest part of the forest, a figure stirred. Cloaked in shadows, eyes glowing faintly red.
The Fallen King had felt the song.
And he was listening.
---