Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 96: The Lost Princess.

*** Arianna’s POV ***

As we advance into the belly of Pyrocardia, the air thickens, cool and pressing against my skin–an unexpected chill that belies the volcano’s fiery Pyra, ablaze with a fierce, crackling aura, illuminates our path, her flames casting dancing shadows on the rugged walls. The light flickers over jagged stone, painting everything in hues of orange and deep crimson.

Bloodbane and I trail just behind her, the golden chains that bind us to Pyra clinking softly with each tentative step. It’s a ruse, these chains, meant to present us as her captives, but they feel heavier with each step deeper into this unknown.

Despite the enveloping darkness, the path before us is clear, guided by Pyra’s unwavering light. The walls of the tunnel stretch upward, narrowing into a crevasse that slices through the heart of the mountain. Stalactites drip from the high ceiling like jagged teeth, and the occasional scurry of unseen creatures reminds us we are not alone in this labyrinthine passage.

Bloodbane’s breath is a soft whisper against my ear. “We’re being watched.”

I nod slightly, feeling the weight of hidden eyes upon us. My hand instinctively drifts to the hilt of my sword, comforted by its familiar touch. The sounds of our footsteps are muffled, but the air carries the faintest echo of others- soft, stealthy movements that speak of danger lurking just beyond the next shadow.

The tension coils within me, a tangible force that tightens with each breath. My thoughts race, piecing together our scant options should we need to fight. Bloodbane’s presence at my side is both a reassurance and a reminder of what’s at stake

Suddenly. Pyra halts and looks upwards, her flames swelling around her as she faces the darkness ahead. Her voice rings out, resonant and commanding, shattering the oppressive silence.

“I am Pyra Flamebome, daughter of Ignatius Fireborne and the lost fire princess Cinderfell Glowforge, next in line to the Throne of Fire. My parents stole me from this place, from my tribe and my home, when I was but a babe. I have come back to reclaim my birthright, my heritage, my throne. I bring with me two gifts captives from the Blood Lands. Now, take me to whichever thieving cousin of mine has claimed the throne in my absence.”

Her declaration echoes through the cavernous space, a challenge thrown into the depths of the mountain. I grip the chains tighter, bracing for what may come. The silence that follows is deafening, filled only by the crackle of Pyra’s flames.

The walls seem to close in, the shadows deepen, and the air grows colder. From the comers of my eyes, I glimpse movement–Beeting and clusive, yet undeniably there. The Fire Wraiths, I suspect, their presence a silent threat.

Inside, my mind is filled with questions.

Is what she said true? Is she really a princess? And if so, can we really trust her? What if she’s just using us, tricking us,

offering us up like bait?

And yet, I have no choice right now but to put my trust with her. My mind races with strategies and scenarios. We are in the Fire Wraiths element, at their mercy, yet Pyra stands unyielding, a beacon of fire in the heart of her ancestral home. I find strength in her conviction, her fiery aura fueling my resolve.

As we wait, the tension builds to an almost unbearable level. I ready myself, knowing that whatever comes next, the path forward is fraught with

danger.

The air crackles with energy as the fire wraiths emerge from the shadows, one by one igniting into brilliant, fiery forms on

the

stone ridges above. Their presence is a breathtaking spectacle, each wielding golden flaming swords that cast a harsh, luminous glow on the jagged walls of the crevasse. Their figures, outlined by flickering flames, convey a mixture of awe and threat.

As they transform into ethereal fireballs, drifting slowly through the darkness, the tension among us heightens. They solidify into their true forms on the cool stone floor, encircling us completely. At least thirty of them now, their numbers alone are overwhelming. Among them, a figure in golden armor steps forward, his presence unmistakable. His long flowing hair, molten copper and braided, shimmers under the firelight, mirroring Pyra’s Dall fiery locks. His golden eyes scan us, filled with caution and a hint of curiosity.

“May 17 His voice breaks the silence, tentative yet commanding.

Pyra nods slightly, her stance firm. As his fire aura begins to blaze a brilliant guld, brighter than before, she mirrors his intensity. Their hands reach aut, palms touching, auras mingling in a vibrant dance of light and color. His eyes widen in realization, a mixture of shock and recognition flooding his face.

Det Princest

She speaks the truth: She is of royal blood, she is Pyrk, the douginer of the lihet princess Welcome back your Highness?

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My mind races with doubts. Just wait is Pyra still pretending? Is this really

to the Blood Lands

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Bloochane, seeking any sign of reassurance, but his expression is hard, unreadable. The weight of potential betrayal rather than mere subterfuge. As the fire wraiths eyes fixate on as waiting for thei to fight to fee–whatever it takes to survive this treacherous revelation.

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