The man in the coat wasn’t chasing her. Neither were the frost creatures. They’d vanished—melted into steam when her fire erupted. But his words echoed louder than the rain:

“They’ll come for you now.”

She burst into her apartment, slamming the door and locking all three bolts. Her foster mom was working the night shift again—good. No one needed to see her like this. Her hoodie sleeves were scorched, fingers still tingling with residual heat.

She grabbed a bowl of water and dunked her hands in. Steam hissed.

“Am I going insane?” she muttered.

Then it happened again.

Her vision blurred. Her apartment melted into something older—stone walls, torches, a massive throne carved from obsidian. A woman stood there, cloaked in red, with Kael’s face… only older, scarred, and commanding armies.

“Flame will rise again,” the vision whispered. “But fire alone cannot win. You must find the others.”

Kael jolted back, soaked in sweat, knocking the bowl to the floor.

---

On a frozen peak far from the city, five cloaked figures stood in a circle around a pillar of ice.

“She’s awakened,” said one, voice deep and growling.

“She’s unstable,” another hissed. “The Ember-born hasn’t fully remembered who she is. She’s vulnerable.”

The tallest among them slammed a frost-tipped staff to the ground.

“Then we strike now. Before she finds the other Awakened. Before the fire spreads.”

The ice pillar cracked slightly, revealing a pale face inside—still frozen, still waiting. A prisoner. Or a weapon.

---

Kael sat on her bed, hoodie off, staring at her hands.

Then came the knock.

Slow. Heavy. Measured.

She tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. No one.

But on the floor, wrapped in a piece of charred leather, lay a symbol: a spiral of fire surrounded by frost.

She picked it up.

It burned her fingers.