The wind swept across the rooftop, cold and sharp, tugging at long coats and carrying the distant hum of the city below. Two figures stood at the edge, their faces swallowed by darkness. Only their shadows stretched across the concrete, long and warped beneath the faint glow of the skyline.
The one on the left broke the silence.
"The Queen of Ephemeral isn't back yet," they said calmly, "and the brother of the Queen of Euphoria is also missing."
The shadow on the right shifted slightly. "Does that mean he went with her?"
"It seems so."
"And the throne?"
A pause. The city lights flickered below them like dying stars. "It seems like it's going to her niece."
"But she's alive."
"The queen has no idea," the left figure replied. "We're the only ones who know."
Silence settled again, heavier this time.
"How soon is the coronation?" the one on the right asked.
"Two weeks' time."
A low chuckle slipped from the darkness. "Well… I guess this calls for some chaos, don't you think?"
The left figure turned, their shadow stretching unnaturally long. "What are you up to?"
"Nothing good."
The wind howled, and far below, a siren wailed before abruptly cutting off. Somewhere in the distance, clouds shifted, briefly revealing a faint crimson glow in the sky.
The two figures stepped back from the edge in unison, their shadows dissolving into the night as if they had never been there at all. And above the city, unseen and unheeded, the air itself seemed to tremble—waiting for the first crack in a crown that was never meant to rise.
The next day
Sleep held Nikki gently—
Until it didn't.
The warmth came first.
Soft.
Faint enough to slip into her dreams unnoticed.
Then it changed.
Sharpened.
Intensified.
A sudden, scorching heat tore across her wrist.
Nikki gasped, her body jerking awake as her eyes flew open. "Ah—!"
The pain wasn't surface-level.
It was deeper.
Like something was being carved into her skin from the inside.
Her fingers clamped around her wrist instinctively, but the heat only spread faster—burning, writing, forming.
Her breath came in short, uneven bursts as she forced herself to look.
And froze.
Silver light pulsed beneath her skin.
Lines—thin, intricate, deliberate—began to trace themselves across her wrist, weaving into a symbol she had never seen before…
Yet somehow—
Her chest tightened.
It felt familiar.
Wrongly familiar.
The sigil took shape with terrifying precision.
Curved edges. Sharp intersections. A design too complex to be random.
It glowed.
Alive.
Pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Nikki shook her head, panic rising. "What—what is this…?"
The light flared suddenly, brighter—
Hotter—
And she sucked in a sharp breath as the final line sealed into place.
The door burst open.
"Nikki your mother requests that you come—"
Amber stopped.
Mid-step.
Mid-sentence.
Her eyes locked onto Nikki's wrist.
The glow.
Unmistakable.
Immediate.
"Nikki—what's going on?" she asked, already rushing forward.
She grabbed Nikki's wrist before she could pull away, her grip firm, urgent.
The moment Amber saw the sigil clearly—
She froze.
Her expression didn't twist in confusion.
Or shock.
It stilled.
Like she had just seen something she already understood.
"No…" Amber whispered.
Her voice was low.
Uneven.
"They wouldn't…"
But they did.
The sigil pulsed once.
Deep.
Heavy.
Like a heartbeat echoing through the room.
Amber flinched.
Then—
Beneath the glowing mark—
Words began to form.
Slowly.
Letter by letter.
Burning into existence in the same cold silver light.
ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.
The air shifted.
The room tilted slightly, like reality itself had been nudged out of place.
Nikki swallowed hard, her throat dry as her eyes darted between the words and Amber's face.
"Amber…" she said, her voice quieter now.
Unsteady.
"What is this?"
Amber didn't answer immediately.
Because she was staring at the mark like it had just confirmed her worst fear.
"The Royal Ball," she said finally.
Nikki blinked. "A ball?"
Amber let out a hollow laugh.
"That's what they call it," she said. "But it's not just a ball, Nikki."
Her voice dropped.
"It's where Hell decides things."
Nikki's chest tightened.
A cold unease crept up her spine.
"Amber, you're scaring me."
Amber's gaze snapped back to her—sharp, urgent, no room for hesitation.
"Nikki, we need to go meet your mother this instant," she said, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the bed.
"Amber—" Nikki tried, her feet barely steady as she was dragged forward.
But Amber didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
She pulled her toward the door with a desperation Nikki had never seen before.
The hallway outside felt colder.
Darker.
Longer.
As if the house itself had changed.
"Amber," Nikki called again, panic rising in her voice, "what's going on?!"
Amber didn't answer.
Not this time.
Her silence was louder than anything she could have said.
Behind them—
The room they had just left dimmed.
The silver glow on Nikki's wrist flickered once more.
Watching.
Waiting.
And somewhere—
Far beyond the walls of that house—
Something ancient stirred.
Because the mark had been given.
The summons had been accepted.
And whether Nikki understood it or not—
She had just been claimed.