The skies over Sabrah darkened unnaturally as Corrine neared the outskirts of the kingdom. The wind howled with whispers—ominous and sharp. Suddenly, from the treetops and shadows, masked warriors leapt upon her.
Before she could cast a single spell, a silver dagger laced with elfroot silenced her magic, and her vision faded into darkness.
---
Corrine's eyes fluttered open.
She was bound in cold iron chains, kneeling at the center of an ancient sacred temple. The stone floor beneath her was etched with runes of suppression, glowing red. Around her, nine black arrows, forged from obsidian and cursed silver, hovered in a magical circle—each aimed at her heart.
The air smelled of old blood and burning sage.
She struggled, her voice hoarse. "You don't know what you're doing..."
Suddenly, at the old Carello estate, the skies thundered.
Lucifer clutched a letter—a raven-delivered message smeared with blood.
> "Your queen is in our hands. Come if you dare, Devil. The light will finally triumph."
His crimson eyes darkened. His fury erupted. The ancient estate trembled, stones cracked, shadows bled from the walls.
With a snarl, he vanished into shadow—his only thought was Corrine.
---
He appeared inside the temple in a blaze of fire and shadow.
His eyes met hers. Corrine was chained, bleeding, and her aura weak. But her gaze was locked on his, fierce even in suffering.
Without thinking, Lucifer dashed toward her.
The moment his boot touched the runes—his body trembled.
The ground pulsed. The runes lit brighter, sapping his power with every step.
"No…" he growled. "It's a trap."
Corrine's lips trembled. "You shouldn't have come…"
But Lucifer only smiled as he knelt before her, freeing her hands. He cradled her face, pressing his forehead to hers.
> "For thousands of years I roamed this cursed earth… and the happiest days of my existence were with you."
Then the first black arrow pierced his heart.
Corrine gasped, her scream frozen in her throat as blood trickled from his mouth. But Lucifer smiled through the pain.
> "I've always loved you, my Queen... Don't cry."
Tears streamed down Corrine's cheeks as she whispered, "I loved you more…"
They kissed, their final kiss, as his body shimmered—then turned to dust and light, vanishing into the wind.
The Devil—Lucifer, the First Flame—was no more.
---
Corrine screamed—a sound so full of pain that the sky itself wept.
But the elves guarding the temple stood still, unmoved, bound to their sacred duty.
Then thunder echoed again—seven figures appeared, sprinting toward the circle.
Aslan. Cassius. Cassandra. Sandro. Lynna. Marius. Merika.
Lucifer and Corrine's children.
"No—run!" Corrine cried.
But it was too late. The runes reacted to their blood.
Chains of shadow gripped them, suppressing their powers.
One by one, the black arrows found their hearts.
Each child's body collapsed, lifeless, as Corrine sobbed—her hands pressed against the invisible boundary. Their power, their legacy, their lives—erased before her eyes.
Only silence remained. And one arrow left.
It hovered—pointed directly at her.
Corrine raised her head, blood on her lips but fury in her eyes. Her voice rang through the temple, echoing with ancient power:
> "You may kill us now… but the dark flame cannot be extinguished.
It will rise again, in bloodlines you cannot trace.
In dreams you cannot tame.
Generations will pass—and my wrath will come for you.
One day, my descendant will be your end."
The final arrow pierced her heart.
Her body fell beside the ashes of her love and her children.
The Dark Matriarch of the Carello line was dead.
But the curse had been spoken.
And somewhere in the shadows, the Black Flame flickered—waiting to rise again.
The sacred halls of the Moonwell Temple glowed softly under the blue-hued light of enchanted lanterns. Birds cooed from the enchanted trees beyond the balcony, but inside Lucille's chambers, a deadly silence hung in the air.
A parchment sealed with a silver sigil lay on the table—opened, its contents burned into her mind.
Lucifer is dead. Her mother, her siblings—all slaughtered by the Council.
Lucille stood still, her eyes wide, unblinking. Her heart pounded violently in her chest. She felt it—the moment it happened. The severing of her bloodline. The silencing of the power that once called her home.
She pressed a hand over her chest, as though holding herself together.
Then, quietly, she knelt before the moonlit window. No sobs, no screams—just silence.
> "So this is how it ends... for them," she whispered.
But her father's voice echoed in her memory: "Darkness cannot be erased, only reborn."
Her lips curled into a cold, bittersweet smile. They trained her to endure. To wait. To strike.
She whispered to herself:
> "I will not weep. I will create the next generation of darkness. Not today. Maybe not in my lifetime. But the Carello blood will rise again… and end the Council's reign."