The stars over Azrana burned brighter than they had in years.
But one star—a strange, flickering red glow—hung low in the sky like an omen. The desert folk began calling it The Ashen Star, whispering that its rise marked the return of something ancient.
In the markets and taverns, the elders muttered of curses long buried. Of relics that should never have been touched. Of gods who did not sleep peacefully.
Liora, now gray at her temples and tempered by years of leadership, dismissed most of it as desert superstition.
Until the ground began to shake.
---
In the deep hours of the night, a tremor cracked the stone floors beneath the Temple of Sands. A column crumbled, revealing a spiral staircase that had never been on any map. Dust and silence poured from the opening like breath exhaled after centuries of stillness.
Scholars investigated.
Most came back pale and quiet.
One never returned.
Liora, reluctant but resolute, descended the stairs herself.
What she found beneath chilled her blood.
Glyphs of flame. Carvings of a creature—not man, not god—bound in chains of obsidian. And in the center of the chamber, a basin of fire that burned without fuel or air.
The First Flame, or a shard of it.
Still alive.
Still waiting.
---
Across the continent, the Circle stirred.
Each Guardian received the signal—a red stone, once dormant, now glowing faintly. It pulsed like a heartbeat. And they knew.
Something had awakened.
Bael was the first to return to Azrana. He hadn't aged well—more scars, slower steps—but the fire in his eyes was the same.
"You feel it too?" he asked Liora.
She nodded. "It's not over."
---
In the outskirts, a boy no older than thirteen began speaking in his sleep.
Of a fire-wrapped throne.
Of a man with silver eyes kneeling before a voice not his own.
Of Kael—alive, in visions, walking alone in a burning land beneath the sand.
The boy didn't know Kael.
But he spoke his name like he'd known him all his life.
---
The desert had a memory.
And now it stirred.
But so did its protectors.
Kael's legacy was not just etched in history—it was alive in those who carried the burden of balance. And as the Ashen Star grew brighter in the heavens, the question was no longer whether power would return…
…but who would rise to face it.