The ancient forest was no longer silent.
Birds had flown from their trees hours ago, sensing the shift in the air. The leaves no longer rustled gently—they trembled, whispering secrets only the oldest among them could recall.
Sera stood at the edge of a stone circle, her hands raised, her eyes glowing faintly with flickering firelight.
She could feel it now—Naeya.
A presence on the wind, subtle and stirring, like a forgotten melody rejoining the symphony. Her flames danced with less chaos than before, curling gently into spirals of orange and gold, responding not just to her, but to something… someone else.
"You're connecting with another," muttered Kaelren, watching her with cautious admiration. The rogue's usual sarcasm had faded into something more respectful, more alert.
Sera lowered her hands. "I saw her in my dream again. This time, she was riding something… it looked like a panther made of wind and dust."
Kaelren blinked. "Well that sounds comforting."
Beside them, Lyric adjusted the silver rings on her staff. "You two are connected. That's the bond of the Elemental Cycle. Fire and Wind have always danced together."
"And when they're together," Sera murmured, "they can shape the very breath of the world."
A pulse of energy passed through the stone circle, and Lyric's staff hummed. "She's coming. I don't know how long it will take her to reach us, but I suggest we move. The Eyes are already closing in."
---
Far above the clouds, in a temple suspended between sky and starlight, the Wind Oracle opened her eyes for the first time in centuries.
"Two flames now," she whispered, her voice like the sound of fluttering wings. "The first sings of fire, the second of storm. When the third awakens—"
She looked down toward the valley beyond the horizon.
"—then the Gate will open."
---
Meanwhile, in the dunes of Takarra…
Naeya reached the top of a jagged ridge, her sand-runner panting beneath her. The storm she had seen in the dream—the silver storm—was brewing ahead. Bolts of unnatural lightning cracked across the sky in quiet bursts of blue.
The land was changing.
Naeya's crystal glowed hot in her palm.
"She's close."
The wind wrapped around her neck like a scarf, and she leaned forward, whispering a single word: "Fly."
With a roar, the sand-runner bolted forward, paws barely touching the ground, racing toward fate.
---
Back in the forest, the trio broke into a clearing where ancient stones shimmered with old magic. Sera stopped.
Something was waiting.
It wasn't visible… but it was there. A hum in the air. A pulse beneath their feet.
And then she heard it.
Not in her ears—but in her heart.
A voice on the wind.
"I'm coming."
Her eyes widened. "Naeya…"