Night hung heavy over Sunspear. Within its walls, nobles and servants alike slept as the sound of waves crashed against ancient stone.
Mars lay restless in his bed, the cover cast aside when the dream came.
He stood in a place he'd never seen before. Walls of black stone, mist curling at his feet. And in the center: a woman. Hair like liquid silver falling to her waist, violet eyes glowing like twin moons.
"Mars," she whispered, her voice soft as silk.
He knew he should recognize her. Her face was strange and yet… painfully familiar.
"Blood calls to blood… and fire knows its own," she murmured.
"Who—?"
"Wake up."
Mars jolted upright, his skin damp with sweat, heart pounding.
"Another charming nightmare?" Sage's voice teased, honey-smooth and amused.
"I don't know… but she was there. Again."
"That's three nights in a row, darling. Fate's knocking quite insistently."
Mars dragged a hand through his damp hair. "I need to find out who she is."
The next morning, by the edge of the training grounds, Ashara approached him. Dark circles rimmed her eyes.
"You too?" Mars asked.
She nodded. "I dreamed… of an old city. A woman calling to me. I couldn't see her face, but… I felt the wind."
Mars gave a crooked smile. "Maybe we're both mad."
"Or doomed."
They stood in silence for a moment. Then Ashara held out her hand.
"This stays between us."
"To our last breath."
They hooked pinkies together. No oath, no grand words — just a childish promise. But in a world like theirs, sometimes that was the most honest bond of all.