Part One – The Echo Call
Location: Ashenwell Academy – The Dorm Tower (Dawn)
Grim stared out the tower window as golden mist rolled across the school grounds.
The duel was yesterday.
His win had shifted everything—status, attention, expectation.
But what came next?
A message.
Not one delivered by courier.
Not written in ink.
But carved into his soul.
"Four voices awaken. The Guardians stir. The heirs must rise—or fall in flame."
He jerked back from the window, eyes glowing faintly.
Sparks blinked into the air beside him, head tilted.
"That didn't sound ominous at all. Want me to translate it into haiku?"
"The Guardians want to see them," Grim said, tone flat. "All four."
Location: Training Hall – MidMorning
Grim gathered them after their grueling early session with Zevrin (who had gleefully made them sprint blindfolded through lightning nets).
He stood in front of his siblings—Max, Ayesha, Hadi, Tristan—each of them already sweating, slightly singed, and in various states of "What fresh hell is next?"
"We don't have time to ease into this," Grim said. "The Guardians… they're calling for you."
A silence fell.
Max narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because you're their heirs. And right now? You're a disappointment."
Ayesha blinked. "Okay. Rude."
Hadi's brows furrowed. "Wait—heirs heirs? Like… the actual Guardian lineages?"
"Yes," Grim said. "And if you're not ready... they'll kill you."
Tristan leaned forward. "Cool. When do we start?"
Grim stepped closer. His presence—fire still barely restrained, aura vast and stormfed—made the air thrum.
"There's more. You need to keep training with Zevrin. But we also start private sessions. With me."
"Storm and fire training. Off the record."
Max nodded once.
"Understood."
Ayesha sighed. "Do we ever get to do normal teenage things?"
Sparks popped into view, hand on her hip, glowing like a smug energy sprite.
"You're trying to avoid a flaming death by cosmic beast gods. I'd say that's pretty standard teenager stuff."
Location: Somewhere Deep Beneath Oruin – Unknown
Far away, four immense beings stirred in the shadows.
One cloaked in frost.
One wreathed in shifting light.
One crowned in wind and hollow laughter.
One bound in endless stone.
And all of them spoke in one voice:
"Let the heirs come forth. Or let them burn forgotten."