Location: Thalum Wastes – at the edge of a collapsed sanctum, where the dragon's dream realm once bled into the waking world. The air is dry, cracked. The land remembers fire.
Grim stumbled out of the fading rift, his body radiating heat and exhaustion. Sixty days inside the Dream realm—sixty days of fire, pain, and growth.
Outside?
Only an hour had passed.
He collapsed to one knee, hand digging into the ashen earth. The wind howled around him. But he was stronger now. The fire within him no longer flickered. It burned steady.
And yet… he didn't rise.
Not because he couldn't.
Because he sensed them.
Before he even looked up, he felt them—like thunder rolling in from three directions.
They were coming.
First Came the Cold
The wind shifted. The world slowed.
Frost began creeping across the rocks in the distance. Mist pooled in unnatural silence.
Then—
Crack.
The ground beneath Grim's feet fractured, not from heat… but from a sudden bloom of ice.
Out of the fog walked a tall figure in pale blue and silver, calm and devastating.
Tristan.
His cloak trailed frost. His boots left frozen sigils in the dirt. His expression? Controlled. Regal. But his eyes—icy, calculating—held something raw beneath the surface.
"So it's true," Tristan said, voice smooth like frozen glass. "You're alive."
Grim smirked faintly, breath still ragged. "Don't sound too happy."
Tristan stepped closer, aura freezing the air with each stride.
"I'm not." He paused. "Not yet."
The chill in the silence between them said everything.
Then Came the Pulse
The ice cracked—not from heat, but from pressure.
A roar of pink energy surged through the canyon, splitting the sky in waves.
Lightning met laughter.
And she dropped in from above like a comet made of light—
Hadi.
Her landing sent a pulse wave in all directions, blowing dust off the ruins like a tantrum made of stars.
She stood, hands glowing pink, grin already wide.
"Well look at you, Kindle-boy!"
Grim chuckled through his bruises. "You always this loud?"
"Louder," she smirked. "But I've missed yelling at someone who actually deserves it."
She didn't wait. She hugged him—tight, then too tight—until Tristan cleared his throat behind her.
"You're smothering him."
"He's fire now," she shrugged. "Can't smother that."
Then Came the Sound
It started as a silence.
Then… a hum.
The air began to shimmer.
Sound bent around the rocks, soft at first, then rising—a distortion wave, like a siren humming beneath the skin of the world.
The dust parted in perfect spirals.
And then—Ayesha walked through.
Composed. Deadly. Regal. Eyes like goldfire, and a bow slung across her back that whispered with every movement.
Even her presence seemed to demand respect. The wind silenced as she approached.
She looked Grim over—no words.
Grim blinked. "Hey, sis."
She stared.
Then—
"You smell like dragon breath."
And hugged him.
But only briefly.
Ayesha didn't show much. But her touch lingered longer than necessary. And when she stepped back, she gave him a rare, gentle nod.
Then Came the Shadow
The wind stopped entirely.
The sun dimmed. Not from clouds—but from presence.
From behind them all, a figure emerged where no one had seen him arrive.
No sound. No signal.
Just Max—shadowwalker, still as the void.
His cloak was made of flickering dusk. His eyes gleamed like coals smothered in ash.
Grim tensed, instinctively.
Max just looked at him—expression unreadable. The shadows at his feet moved on their own.
"You left."
"I didn't choose to," Grim replied, quiet.
"Doesn't matter." Max's voice was cold. "You left anyway."
A pause.
Then Max stepped forward and dropped to one knee in front of him.
The shadows receded.
"But you're back. So I'll fight beside you again."
Grim looked stunned.
Max stood again, brushing ash off his gloves.
"Don't make me regret that."
The Ashen Reunion
They stood around him—four Kindled siblings. The ones who had moved forward while he'd fallen behind.
But now he was catching up.
And something was forming between them.
Old bonds, reforged in fire.
New wounds, waiting to bleed.
But the flame was together again.
"We're not who we were," Grim said, looking at each of them. "But the world still needs who we'll become."
They didn't answer right away.
They didn't need to.
Because the Flame—however broken—was no longer alone.
Let's dive in.
Time to uncover what came before the fire fell.