The wind whispered low through the ragged trees of the borderlands, carrying the scent of damp earth, ash, and ancient magic. A lonely boy sat on the jagged edge of a blackened cliff, high above the valley below. His cloak—stitched from midnight blue fabric and scorched along its edges—flapped like torn shadow behind him.
Kael Thorne's fingers turned the brittle pages of an old, leather-bound tome, the journal of his mentor—Elandor, the Twilight Sage. Symbols inked in shimmering silver danced across the pages, flickering softly in the pale moonlight. Most couldn't read them. Not without divine blood in their veins.
Kael could. That was one of many things that made him different.
The rune beneath his collarbone pulsed faintly, like a second heartbeat. It had first appeared on his tenth birthday—an intricate spiral of flame and feather, etched in glowing crimson, golden at its core. Since then, life had never been the same.
The dreams came soon after. Vivid and haunting. Of skies tearing open, of voices speaking in tongues older than any realm, of a phoenix engulfed in fire yet unburned. And always, a single phrase echoing across the void:
"When the four awaken, the realms shall tremble."
Kael shut the book and exhaled slowly. The breath left his lips in a faint white mist, though the air wasn't cold.
He stared into the distance. Far to the east, the silver towers of the Divine Citadel shimmered faintly, a crown of light atop the clouds. Beyond it, deep in the horizon, a red haze loomed over the jagged peaks of the Demonlands—like the sky itself bled.
Four realms.
Four powers.
Four paths always at war.
And then there was him.
Not just human. Not entirely divine. Not purely demon. Something else… something deeper... that even he didn't understand.
He'd lived most of his life in hiding, trained in secret by a man who was once one of the highest sages of the Divine Realm. Elandor had risked everything to protect him, to guide him.
And tonight, Kael felt it again—that quiet shift in the air. A distant echo rippling through the magical currents of the world.
Something was changing.
Footsteps approached. Soft, deliberate, and familiar. Elandor appeared beside him, his white robes threaded with midnight glyphs, his staff humming gently in his hand.
"You felt it," the sage said, not a question.
Kael nodded. "Stronger this time. Like… a door opening somewhere far away."
Elandor's gaze lifted toward the horizon, to the jagged skyline where the realms touched. "The others are stirring."
Kael glanced at him. "The others?"
Elandor didn't answer right away. He sat beside Kael on the rocky edge, eyes still fixed on the darkening sky.
"The prophecy was never about one child," he said softly. "But four. Born on the same day. Marked by runes that bind them to fate."
Kael blinked, startled. "You never told me there were others."
"You weren't ready to carry that weight," Elandor said. "Until now."
Kael looked down at his rune again, glowing gently beneath his skin. A faint ache stirred in his chest.
"Do they know?" he asked.
"They will," said Elandor. "Soon."
A long silence stretched between them. Crickets chirped below. A cold breeze tugged at their cloaks.
Then Kael asked the question that had been haunting him since the dreams began. "Will they come for me?"
"They already are," Elandor replied, his voice like stone. He pointed to the sky.
Kael followed his gaze—and there, circling high above, was a raven. Not ordinary, not alive in the usual sense. It moved like a shadow given wings, feathers ruffling soundlessly against the wind.
"A scout," Elandor muttered. "They're watching."
A deep tremor rippled beneath the ground, so subtle it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else. But Kael felt it. In his bones.
Elandor stood swiftly. "It's begun."
---
Elsewhere...
Far across the realm, within the frostbitten ruins of an ancient grove, a girl with snow-white hair whispered words of peace to a great wolf made of ice. As the creature lunged, she stood her ground. Her hand glowing with calming light.
In a jungle, thick with vines and thorns, a boy roared as a massive serpent of stone tried to crush him. He wrestled it down with brute force and earthen magic, locking eyes with the beast as his rune flared like molten rock.
And within a city wrapped in mist and silence, a girl clad in flowing shadows danced between rooftops. Blades gleamed in her hands. A raven of black wind circled above her as she vanished into darkness.
All at once, across the realms, runes awakened.
And the world began to stir.