Moonspire Archipelago – The Isle of Silvrah
Far from Emberlight, across the Tempest Sea, lay the Moonspire Archipelago—an ethereal collection of mist-draped islands where moonlight shimmered unnaturally and the waters whispered truths no mortal should hear.
The Isle of Silvrah was the heart of the archipelago, known for its crescent-shaped cliffs and the Tower of Selune—an ivory spire that pierced the heavens and was older than any kingdom on the continent.
Inside the tower's lunar sanctum, lit only by the glowing pool of moonwater at its center, High Seer Lysindra sat cross-legged, her eyes pale as milk, unblinking. Moonlight pooled through the open skylight above, cascading in patterns only she could understand.
Three figures stood around her—Moon Elf elders draped in robes of silk and crystal, their faces impassive.
"The vision comes again," Lysindra whispered. "The Flame stirs… the tyrant sleeps no longer."
A ripple ran through the pool. Images emerged—Kael, holding Lyra in his arms beneath a bleeding sky. A city engulfed in fire. The shadow of a crown not yet worn.
"The Star-Eaters will raze the borders. The Darenthal will push to claim him. But it is she who will break the balance," Lysindra said.
"She?" asked Elder Verion, brow creased.
The pool showed a silhouette—a woman wreathed in fire and moonlight, her eyes a mirror of Kael's daughter's, but her power... wild, unbound.
"A daughter not yet born," Lysindra whispered. "A second flame. If she lives... the veil will split, and the Moon Gate will open again."
Verion stepped forward. "Then we must act. Shall we retrieve the Flameborn? Guide him to us?"
"No," Lysindra said firmly. "He must come willingly—or not at all. But we will send a Watcher."
She turned her eyes toward the moonlight, where a figure waited—Elyra Valen, a Moon Elf blade-dancer and the youngest daughter of the Highblood family.
"You called, Seer?"
"Go to Emberlight," Lysindra said. "Find the one who bears the flame. Observe. Do not interfere—unless the child is threatened. If the second flame awakens, guard her with your life."
Elyra bowed, her silver braid trailing down her back. "As you command."
"And remember, Elyra... do not let your heart sway. The Flameborn may not yet know what he is—but he was once a harbinger of ruin. If the seal breaks completely… not even the gods can save us."
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Elsewhere – The Sea of Drifting Blossoms
A lone ship made of silverwood and wrapped in sails of woven mist glided through the waves, heading toward the mainland. On board, Elyra stood at the prow, her longcoat billowing behind her, face calm despite the gathering storm.
She held an old pendant—etched with a single flame.
"Kael of the Flame," she murmured, voice barely audible over the sea. "Let's see if you're the monster they fear… or the savior we need."
Lightning cracked across the sky. The ship pressed forward.