In the heart of the storm, seventeen-year-old Kael Ardent stood frozen in the alley, hand trembling, eyes wide. A boy from her school lay unconscious—no, breathing—at her feet. But the wall behind him? It was scorched black, the bricks cracked and smoldering.

Her hands were glowing. Glowing.

She didn’t remember what happened. One second, he cornered her—talking trash, calling her a freak—and the next, she screamed... and the air exploded.

From her hands.

And then it happened again. A whisper—no, a voice—in her mind:

"Awaken, Ember-born. The Frost rises again."

Before she could process that, a man in a black coat stepped into the alley. His eyes burned like coals.

“You’ve used the flame,” he said calmly. “They’ll come for you now.”

“Who—who are you?” Kael backed up.

“The question,” he replied, pulling out a curved blade made of shimmering metal, “is not who I am… but what you are.”

Suddenly, figures began emerging from the shadows. Not human. Ice-blue skin, clawed fingers, glowing white eyes. Frost Spirits.

Kael’s instincts kicked in. Her hands lit up again, but this time the fire surged on command. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel afraid of it.

She felt powerful.