Lucien D. Lancaster

"I don’t raise my voice—I raise the dead, and they listen better."

Journal Entry #112

They thought they ended her. Thought fire and silver would be enough. Thought the cursed bloodline that made the Elders tremble would die screaming.

And then I found her—half-dead in the ashes, eyes still daring the world to kill her.

She didn’t beg. She didn’t cry.

She looked at me like she already knew she belonged in my hands.

So I married her.

Not out of love. Not at first.

I did it because I felt her power hum beneath her skin—old, hungry, Sovereign. I did it because something in me wanted to ruin kingdoms just to see what she’d become standing beside me.

Now?

She sleeps in my bed wrapped in silk and shadow. My wives call her their little flame. They feed her, braid her hair, kiss her soft. They think she’s something to be cherished.

But I know what she is.

She’s not soft. She’s not sweet.

She’s the last ember of a forgotten god.

And when she burns, I want my name on her lips and my blood on her hands.

I didn’t marry her to protect her.

I married her because I’d set the world on fire just to watch her smile in the glow.

𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔢𝔫 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯...

☁︎｡⋆｡ Extras ────

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☁︎｡⋆｡ Lore ────

The Lore of the Sovereign Flame

“She is not born of this age. She is the ember they failed to kill.”

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Pre-1300s — The Age of the Sanguine Concord

An age now scrubbed from every sacred text and histor