A crimson sun bled across the Vashiri Archipelago, setting the floating islet of Ash'nael ablaze in molten light. The ground itself seemed alive — molten glass dunes shifted underfoot, responding to the heat in the air. Atop this scorched plateau, Seran Dustros moved with lithe precision, his blade tracing arcs of flame in the salt-laden wind. Each kata he performed summoned spirals of molten glass that rose, formed phantom weapons, and shattered into embers of fire.
He paused mid-twirl, sweat gleaming on his bronze skin. Around him, tents of red silk flickered like tongues of flame. His gaze drifted to the endless azure below.
"The ocean sleeps below, waiting to drink the fire of ambition," he murmured, voice as warm and dry as desert wind. "Let it wait. I am not done burning."
A flare of orange light crackled at his side. Seran caught a flame-sealed scroll in one effortless motion. Breaking the wax, he scanned the names within.
Kael Ryuu.
A slow, amused smile curved his lips. He let the scroll ignite harmlessly in his palm, the flames dancing across the parchment before vanishing.
"The crestless one walks with fire in his shadow. How quaint," he whispered, turning back to the dunes as if the world itself had just agreed with him.
---
Far to the north, the Skyreach Isles hovered like shards of ice against the horizon. The Tower of Eirion, carved entirely of living frost, glistened in perpetual twilight. On its highest balcony, Lyselle Thorne moved with calculated grace, her breath crystallizing in the frigid air. She traced intricate frost-arrays midair, each glyph shimmering before dissolving into a drifting snowflake.
A crystal dossier floated before her, illuminated by pale moonlight filtering through the floating windows. Rows of names and Crest affiliations scrolled in delicate script.
She tapped a line that pulsed faintly — Kael Ryuu.
"The Queen's court names him a prodigy with no origin. Curious," she mused, voice as cool as the wind. She reached for the sapphire pendant at her throat, shaped like a snowflake.
"Mother was right—his thread tangles with fate's loom."
Her pale eyes narrowed as she closed the dossier with a snap. Frost flickered around her fingertips.
"I will unveil you, Kael Ryuu. One rune at a time."
---
Beneath the lowest ring of floating isles lay Drel'Mor Bastion, its foundations skimming the black vortex of the Abyssal Gate. Here, the air tasted of salt and ancient sorrows. Kain Dravos emerged from a subterranean ritual chamber, lit by violet lanterns that cast long, wavering shadows.
A Warden chanted in Old Deep Cant, voice echoing like waves against stone. Kain listened, expression unreadable, before nodding once and strapping twin oceansteel blades to his back. Each blade bore runic inscriptions that glimmered with deep-sea blue.
He moved through corridors lined with faded murals of drowned cities. A stone tablet pulsed with a single name: Kael Ryuu.
Kain laid a calloused hand upon it.
"The Hollow stirs. The old order moves. And you… you wear the whisper that was meant to stay dead."
He turned, cloak billowing like a dark tide.
"I walk not to win—but to remember. You'll help me do that… crestless boy."
---
The floating capital isle hovered like a crown above the continent, its marble spires gleaming against the sky-ocean. Below, an obsidian landing dock linked to the Crest Arena, banners fluttering in honor of hundreds of Crest factions.
Kael Ryuu stood at the threshold, uniform crisp, runic gloves strapped tight, Kurozan sheathed at his side. Arien, ever-watchful, pointed silently.
"That's Seran Dustros—Vashiri Flame Heir. Witness his fire dance; not all flames are born to warm."
Kael watched Seran toss embers playfully, envoys from red-silk tents recalling desert caravans.
"And there—Lyselle Thorne of the Skyreach Isles. Her smile freezes more hearts than her ice arrays."
He met Lyselle's gaze over the crowd; she inclined her head once.
Arien's finger dipped toward a shadowed alcove.
"Kain Dravos—Hollow Deep Warden. Silent as the abyss, but just as relentless."
Kain turned, meeting Kael's eyes with a slow nod.
Kael inhaled, the wind carrying the scents of ozone, salt, and power.
"Three prodigies. Three storms. And I'm the one with no name... no Crest."
He clenched his fist.
"But even shadows can cast fire."