Lianora felt the power thrumming beneath her skin, as if the world had tilted and made her its axis. The shards of her pendant floated in the air around her, glowing faintly before they sank to the ground like fireflies losing their light.
The Flame Guardian, now fully awakened, knelt before her with his head bowed. His molten armor crackled and hissed, but he showed no threat. Only reverence.
"You carry both the spark and the tide," he said. "You are what we feared… and what we hoped."
Wei Shen approached, slow, cautious. "She wasn't meant to awaken yet," he murmured. "Not until the two flames were joined."
Zhang stepped closer too. "What does that mean?"
The Guardian rose. "There is another. A Guardian of the Storm—hidden somewhere in the North Pacific. When the three awaken—Jade, Flame, and Storm—the world's balance will reset."
Lianora's voice was tight. "But what happens if the Order finds them first?"
The Guardian's face hardened. "Then the balance will not reset. It will collapse."
They returned to the village in silence. The moon was high, and stars blinked with eerie stillness. Even the ocean seemed afraid to move.
That night, as the others slept, Lianora wandered the beach alone, barefoot in the wet sand. Wei Shen found her there.
"You feel it too," he said softly.
She didn't look at him. "It's like everything I used to know is ash now."
He stepped closer. "You're stronger than anyone I've ever met. But that strength… it will be tested. The Order won't stop."
She turned to face him. "Do you remember anything from before? Before you became a Guardian?"
He hesitated. "Only flashes. I remember a girl with green eyes. A promise I made. A kiss on the edge of a burning city."
Lianora's heart skipped. "Was it me?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "But when I saw you, my soul knew you."
Their hands almost touched—but footsteps behind them broke the moment.
Zhang stood at the edge of the trees, unreadable.
"Come," he said. "There's something you need to see."
Back in the hut, Zhang unrolled an ancient scroll he had kept hidden in his backpack. It showed three figures: one cloaked in fire, one in jade, and one shrouded in storm.
"In the old texts," he said, "they speak of a 'Flameborn'—a child of two bloodlines. A bridge. But also a weapon."
Wei Shen stiffened. "What kind of weapon?"
Zhang looked at Lianora. "One who can choose what survives. And what burns."
The room fell silent.
Lianora's voice cracked. "You think I'll have to destroy one world to save the other."
Zhang didn't answer. He didn't have to.
The next morning, the ocean was not calm. Black ships floated just beyond the reef—marked with the green banners of the Jade Order.
"They've arrived," the villagers whispered in fear.
The war was no longer coming.
It had already begun.