The storm that had shaken the sky after the Phoenix Clan's sudden appearance did not strike immediately. For reasons Seraphina could not understand, the clan's forces retreated before reaching the village—as if something had stopped them, stalled them, or warned them to wait.
But the respite came at a cost.
Seraphina's body had weakened in the days following the confrontation. The forbidden flames within her had grown unstable, pulsing with erratic bursts of power she struggled to contain. Even Rylan noticed how, at night, faint embers drifted from her skin like flickering fireflies.
"Maybe we should leave," he urged one evening, gently cupping her face. "Find a safer place. Somewhere we can raise our child in peace."
Seraphina hesitated. "Rylan… there is something I must tell you."
He froze at the tremor in her voice.
"I-I feel two heartbeats," she whispered.
Rylan's breath caught. "Two?"
Seraphina nodded. "Twins."
He embraced her tightly, joy swelling in his chest—but her expression remained troubled. Phoenix Clan births were rare and sacred. For an heiress to bear twins was unheard of. Unacceptable. Dangerous.
But none of that mattered to Rylan.
"We'll protect them," he said fiercely. "No matter what."
Yet fate had different plans.
The Night of the Birth
The night the heavens split open with silver lightning was the night the twins chose to enter the world.
Seraphina's scream pierced the storm as Rylan carried her into the small wooden hut that served as the village birthing house. Midwives, frightened but compassionate, gathered around her.
But as Seraphina's Phoenix blood surged, the lanterns along the walls flickered violently, brightening with unnatural flame. Rylan felt the ground tremble beneath him.
"Her body temperature—gods, it's rising!" one midwife shouted.
"She's burning up!"
"No," Rylan said, clutching Seraphina's hand. "She's a Phoenix—this is normal. Please… help her."
The midwives exchanged uncertain glances. They had delivered countless children—but none from a woman whose veins glowed like molten gold.
When the first baby crowned, a violent burst of crimson light filled the room.
"Cover your eyes!" someone cried.
But it was too late.
A newborn's cry thundered through the hut, laced with something more than sound—a shockwave of radiant fire.
The wooden beams cracked. The lanterns shattered.
And in the midwife's trembling arms lay the first child: a tiny boy, eyes closed, but his skin glowing faintly with golden flame patterns, swirling like living embers.
A second cry followed immediately—this one colder, sharper.
The girl was born wrapped in shifting shadows and silver fire, as though heaven and night fought around her tiny form.
The midwives recoiled in horror.
"This is… this is unnatural!"
"The boy burns like the sun—yet the girl radiates darkness!"
"They shouldn't exist—this is an omen!"
One midwife dropped her cloth and fled. Another stumbled backward, whispering prayers.
Only one remained—a stout older woman with shaking hands and a loyal heart. She placed the twins gently beside Seraphina and glared at the others.
"Children are children," she snapped. "Omen or not."
But even she could not hide her fear.
Rylan stood frozen, unable to breathe. His children… his twins… were beautiful—terrifying—and impossibly divine.
"Arin," he whispered, touching the boy's warm cheek.
"And Lyra," Seraphina breathed, tears streaming. "My babies…"
The twins' energies pulsed, flames and shadows twisting together in a dance of creation and destruction.
The older midwife stepped back. "Their powers… they're unstable. If we stay here—this hut might collapse."
No sooner had she spoken than a thunderous crack echoed through the room. A beam above them split, showering sparks.
Rylan yanked Seraphina and the babies close as the ceiling groaned.
"We need to move!" he shouted.
But as they stepped outside, the storm above the village abruptly ceased.
A strange, unnatural calm settled.
The clouds parted—revealing a massive ring of fire suspended far above, like an eye watching them.
Seraphina's blood ran cold.
"Rylan… the Phoenix Clan. They know."
The Curse of the Heavenfire Twins
The village gathered outside the birthing hut. Some stared with awe, others with terror.
A man whispered, "Those children… they carry heavenfire…"
"No," another corrected. "That girl—her flames are mixed with darkness. She's a bad omen."
Rylan stepped in front of Seraphina, shielding the twins from sight. "Back away," he growled.
But fear spreads quickly. People murmured, pointed, backed away as though cursed.
Then an elderly village priest hobbled forward, staff trembling.
"I have read the ancient texts…" he said. "Two children born under clashing divine powers… They are Heavenfire Twins. They are harbingers of calamity."
"That's enough!" Rylan snapped. "They're my children!"
But the priest did not stop.
"One twin born of radiant flame," he said, pointing to Arin. "A bringer of rebirth."
"And one born of abyssal fire," he whispered, staring fearfully at Lyra. "A bringer of destruction."
Loud murmurs spread.
Seraphina clutched the babies protectively. "My daughter is not a curse!"
But the villagers were turning. Several backed away as if the twins were a plague.
"Get them away from our children!"
"They'll bring disaster to the village!"
"This is a sign from the heavens!"
Rylan felt rage boil within him. "If any of you lay a finger on them—"
He did not finish.
Because in that exact moment, the twins—perhaps sensing danger—began to cry in unison.
Arin's golden flames erupted around him, illuminating the entire village square.
Lyra's shadow-fire spiraled outward, twisting the air into a frigid whirlwind.
The two forces clashed—
And a shockwave blasted across the village, knocking everyone off their feet.
Houses shook. Trees bent. The earth split in a thin glowing line.
Rylan shielded Seraphina and the babies with his body as villagers screamed and scrambled away.
The sky's fiery ring pulsed once, twice—
Then disappeared.
Leaving only silence.
The villagers stared at the twins with pure terror.
"No," Seraphina whispered, tears falling. "Please… don't fear them…"
But it was too late.
The seed of dread had been planted.
And the shadows of fate had begun to move.
Cliffhanger
As Rylan carried his small family back toward their home, a cold wind slithered across the village.
A whisper echoed above them—neither human nor beast.
"Found them…"
Rylan froze, turning slowly.
A hooded figure stood at the edge of the forest, eyes burning like molten gold.
And behind him, dozens of silhouettes emerged… each with blazing wings unfurled.
The Phoenix Clan had finally arrived.