The Dragon Empire and the Phoenix Clan sat above every other kingdom, unequalled, immovable. Lesser houses, Tigers, Bears, Wolves, had tried once to wrest back land from dragon claws and scorched skies. They were broken. Humiliated, they turned to the one power the Dragons feared more than any army: the Phoenix.

The Phoenix did not answer with soldiers. Small as their clan was, to cross them invited extinction. Where other kingdoms drew strength from numbers, the Phoenix drew it inward. When desperate kings begged for fire, the clan refused—until envy forced their hand. The Phoenix rose one last time, a deity of flame remade, and incinerated those who would destroy their sanctuary. Peace followed. The cost was the God’s life. He left a single wish with his daughter, and she kept it without question.

Elsewhere, another omen took shape, not in flame but in ice. In the northern vaults of the Dragon’s Lair the Dragon Emperor’s second son gave breath in a glacier cave where heirs were never born. Behind him slept a thing of bone and silence: an Ice Dragon, pale and long unseen. It lay coiled, dreamless, as if waiting.

And then Hanara was born into a sky that would not hide. The day shone gold. She reached not for her mother’s hand but toward the light, as if memory and sun answered one another. She did not cry.

That did not last.

“Hana…?” Eliana breathed. Ruby eyes, so small, so new, flashed and then went green. The sound that followed tore the room open: a shriek like the world being cleaved. Eliana froze. Felix and the phoenixes, Yelenis, all gold and scarlet, and Worish, dark and wary, turned as one.

Eliana fumbled for the child.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Hush—”

“She’s burning,” Felix said before the rest of them could. He pressed a palm to the newborn’s forehead. Sweat slicked her tiny skin. “Call the Priest. Tell him it’s urgent.”

Yelenis stepped close. Her feathers hummed as if reading a hidden chord. She touched Hanara’s aura and staggered back.

“What is it?” Eliana demanded.

Worish lowered his head, dark eyes like weather.

“She has been born,” he said flatly.

“She?” Eliana’s voice cracked.

“The Saintess of Fire,” Yelenis whispered, then corrected herself. “Or something like a goddess. She carries two divine auras.”

Felix laughed then, but it had no humor.

“Two?”

“The healing light,” Yelenis said, “and the fire—pure destruction and rebirth. At this age her body cannot hold both. She burns from within.”

Eliana clutched the swaddling closer as if that could press the heat down.

“You mean, she could—?”

“If her spirit fractures,” Worish said, low as a storm, “she could lose herself. She could become the fire that does not renew, but consumes.”

Felix tightened his hold until small limbs protested.

“Are you calling my daughter a monster?”

“No,” Yelenis said. “We are saying she has a choice. It will not be an easy one. Her path will break her or crown her.”

Outside, the day held its light like an accusation. Inside, the newborn’s cry ebbed and rose, a metronome for what the clans would one day have to decide.

She will rise like a phoenix—or she will be the fire that ends us all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 🪶 🔥 Princess, Don’t Waver ❄️ 🐉 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note:

This is my very first fantasy story! I hope you enjoy it ❤️

If you like it, please add it to your reading list and/or leave a comment.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤️❤️

EDIT on Dec 22, 2025: I have revised the blurb and Prologue. Enjoy ❤️❤️❤️