The fire accepted her hand like it had been waiting.
Instantly, every torch lining the chamber flared—blazing tall—before extinguishing in perfect unison.
Darkness swallowed the hall.
Then the basin erupted.
A cylinder of golden fire shot straight to the ceiling, roaring. The force of it sent a shockwave knocking everyone back.
Gasps rippled. Bellatrix's eyes went wide, her lips parting in disbelief.
Gold light poured into Serena, streaming up her arm and through her chest.
But then something changed.
The mark on her arm flared blinding hot. The intensity matched what she felt when she channeled fire from Velkaris.
It hurt like a motherfucker, but her composure didn't waver.
Unbeknownst to her, around fifty people in the hall stood rigid, faces pale. They heard the same whispers and felt the same pain on their arms.
Descendant of the Moonlit flame,
Dragon Queen, reborn in name,
We have been waiting for you.
