Kael walked deeper into the forest.
The trees were tall, their leaves whispering with the wind.
Birds chirped high above, but the air still felt tense—like something was watching him.
He was tired. Hungry. And confused.
The emberstone in his pocket was quiet now, but it still felt warm, like it was waiting.
Suddenly, a voice called out.
"Don't move."
Kael froze. The wind around him grew stronger.
Then a girl stepped out from behind a tree.
She wore a green cloak.
Her black hair moved like it was caught in the breeze, even though the air was still.
Her eyes were sharp—and glowing faintly blue.
In her hand, she held a wooden staff.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Kael swallowed. "I'm Kael. I don't want trouble."
"Too late," the girl said. "You're carrying fire magic. I can feel it."
Kael stepped back. "How do you know that?"
"Because I can feel wind magic," she said calmly. "And I've been hunting emberstone users."
Kael's heart raced. "You're going to kill me?"
The girl didn't answer. She looked him over. "You're not trained.
You don't even know what you are."
"I'm just a blacksmith," Kael said. "This stone… it chose me.
I don't understand any of this."
The wind around the girl slowed.
"My name is Serin," she said at last. "And you're lucky I found you before they did."
"Who's they?" Kael asked.
"The Whisper King's riders," Serin said. "They hunt people like you. People the stones choose."
Kael blinked. "But why?"
"Because the Ember Crown is waking," Serin said, her voice serious. "And you're one of the five."
Kael felt cold. "One of the five… what?"
Serin stepped closer. "One of the five chosen to hold the shards of the Crown."
She raised her hand, and wind circled her palm.
"I carry wind," she said.
"You carry fire."
Kael sat down, dizzy.
"Why me?" he whispered.
Serin looked at him. Her eyes were calm, but sad.
"No one chooses the emberstone," she said. "It chooses you."