The night was alive with chaos. The storm’s howl drowned the clash of blades as the armies of the House of Flame, House of Storm, and House of Shadow collided beneath the burning sky.

Inside the ruins of the mountain temple, the Council of Elders sat cloaked in their obsidian thrones- untouchable, watching the war they had orchestrated. Their chants were low, steady, the ritual pulsing like a heartbeat through the ground.

House of Flame: “Anaya was meant to return. She carries the blood we bound. Without her, the ritual cannot be completed.”

House of Shadow: “And yet she runs with the Storm heir- a bond that should never exist. We warned you. Your line is cursed.”

House of Storm: “Cursed or chosen, it matters not. If she is with him, then the Houses will fracture. Blood against blood. The prophecy becomes truth.”

The ritual circle glowed brighter. The air thickened with power.

And then, the doors of the chamber cracked open.

Mira stepped inside, her cloak dripping rain, her eyes burning with something between triumph and madness. She dragged Anaya’s mother in chains behind her, throwing her to the ground before the Council.

Mira: “You sit here chanting, while the real battle is out there. You want your ritual? Then listen,  because I bring you what you’ve hidden even from yourselves.”

The Council stirred uneasily. Mira had no place speaking before them. Yet her words carried venom enough to silence even the Elders.

Mira’s eyes locked on Anaya, who stood at the edge of the chamber, sword still dripping red. Riyan stood beside her, battered, stormlight crackling faintly around his skin.

Mira (soft, dangerous): “You think this love of yours defies the Houses? That you chose each other against the world?”

She laughed bitterly, a sound sharp enough to break bone.

Mira: “No, Anaya. You and Riyan are not fate’s defiance. You are its design.”

The chamber froze. Even the Council stopped chanting.

Mira (pointing to Anaya): “Your bloodline, House of Flame, was bound to House of Storm generations ago. The Council forged it in secret,  a soul-bond ritual to fuse fire and storm into a single weapon. You are not lovers by chance. You are the experiment of their ambition.”

Anaya staggered back, eyes wide, shaking her head.

Anaya: “No… no, I feel him. I know him. This is real.”

Mira (cutting her off): “Real? Tell me, then why does your heart race when he is near? Why does his breath burn your skin like fire? Why does your bond make the armies tremble? Because it was written into you, Anaya. Written before you were even born.”

Riyan’s fists clenched, stormlight surging around him. For the first time, doubt flickered in his eyes.

On the floor, Anaya’s mother whispered, her voice breaking:

Mother: “She speaks truth… I tried to shield you, Anaya. The Council forced the Flame line to submit. Your birth was… destiny twisted by their hands. That is why you cannot resist him. Why he cannot resist you.”

Anaya’s world shattered. She felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath her feet. The love she had clung to, the passion that burned through every kiss, every stolen moment- was it theirs at all?

Mira’s blade gleamed as she raised it toward Riyan.

Mira (coldly): “Now choose, Anaya. Your lover, born of chains or your mother, born of lies. One of them dies tonight.”

The storm outside cracked like the world itself splitting. Anaya screamed as the blade fell-