The three had never met.
Seren stalked forests. Kael read the stars. Vaelrix slept beneath stone and fire.Their lives were separate. Their pain, private.But the divine call was not bound by distance.
The same dream found them one night:
A field of white light.A sky cracked in half.And a voice that said only:"Follow the wing."
Seren was the first to arrive. The light led her beyond the Emerald Glade into forgotten ruins of an old elven shrine. There, an unfamiliar warmth touched her skin—a heavenly breeze.
Kael, guided by symbols in his sleep, walked barefoot for days through the Wastes. He did not know where he was going, only that the stars told him to trust the wind.
Vaelrix, surrounded by rumors and fear, had no destination—until fire erupted from beneath his feet and formed a trail through the clouds. He flew for the first time in years, not to flee… but to find.
They met at the Sanctuary of Halethor, a long-lost altar that was said to mark the line between sky and earth.
They said nothing at first.
Seren's eyes narrowed.Kael simply bowed his head.Vaelrix snarled but said, "You dreamt it too, didn't you?"
Before they could answer—she appeared.
Aurelith.
She did not walk. She descended.
Bathed in soft gold and silver, her wings spread wide, touching the ruins with divine warmth.She did not look at them. She looked through them. And when she spoke, her voice was not sound—it was memory.
"The fire you carry is not your own.It was given… and must now be kindled together."
Then she vanished, leaving only a trail of burning lilies where she stood.
From this moment forward, they were bound.
The Flamebearers would now walk together—not as friends, not yet—but as vessels of something far greater than themselves.
And the world… had noticed.