Her talent was spoken of even in the most prestigious academies of the Empire, her name whispered in the reports of military analysts.
To awaken the Spark of the Raging Flame at twenty-three was already a rarity, but when paired with an enormous mana capacity and innate sensitivity to atmospheric currents, it became something almost mythical. Cyan wasn't just a mage—she was a force that bent the world's very fabric to her will.
At just sixteen, she singlehandedly suppressed a rebellion in the southern regions of Mirestar. Nearly a thousand armed insurgents vanished in an instant—no battle, no screaming, no warning. A single spell. One whispered word. She hadn't taken a single step.
They hadn't been seasoned knights or elite rearguard units—but still, it was a thousand lives, erased like breath on glass. That tale lingered in murmurs and memory, cloaked in an almost sacred mystique.
