The winds howled across the Air Realm’s high peaks, carrying with them an unfamiliar presence. Deep within the ancient peaks, a young woman clung to the edge of a narrow cliff, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Her dark cloak whipped around her as she scrambled up the jagged rock, cursing the endless winds.
She was no Guardian. She didn’t even know what the title meant. All she knew was survival.
“Just keep climbing,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s not like you’ve got anywhere else to go.”
Her name was Reya, and she had no home, no family—only a half-forgotten memory of a voice telling her she had to find the “peaks of air.” She had laughed it off then, but desperation had a way of making fools out of everyone.
As she crested the ledge, her hand brushed against something smooth and cold. She looked down and froze. A pale stone lay nestled in the rock, glowing faintly with a soft white light.
“What in the...” Reya trailed off, reaching out to touch it. The moment her fingers grazed the stone, a rush of wind swirled around her, strong enough to knock her to the ground. She cried out, shielding her face as the winds roared.
When the gale finally died down, the stone was gone—but the faint glow had transferred to a pendant now hanging around her neck.
Reya stared at it, dumbfounded. “What... what is this?”
Before she could make sense of it, a new rush of wind slammed into her, this time carrying words that seemed to echo in her mind: You’ve been chosen. Find the others.
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Meanwhile, in the Fire Realm, Amaya paced in front of the roaring hearth, the flames reflecting the unease she couldn’t shake. The warmth, usually comforting, now felt oppressive, as though the fire itself was restless. Her fingers curled around the crimson stone hanging from her neck. It pulsed faintly, its energy flickering in time with her racing thoughts.
The dream—no, the warning—had felt so real. Whispers in a language she didn’t recognize, an overwhelming sense of dread, and the faint outline of a shadowy figure. It was too vivid to ignore.
“Amaya?”
She turned to see her younger brother standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you up?”
She forced a smile. “Just couldn’t sleep, Kai. Go back to bed.”
But he frowned, his gaze shifting to the fire, which crackled violently before settling into a low, steady burn. “Is something wrong with your powers?”
“No,” she said quickly, though she wasn’t sure she believed it. “Everything’s fine. Go on.”
In the Water Realm, Kai stood knee-deep in a crystal-clear lake, his reflection rippling beneath the moonlight. He dipped his hands into the water, hoping its cool touch would soothe the unease crawling under his skin. Usually, the water was a sanctuary for him, its movements as familiar and comforting as his own heartbeat. But tonight, something was different.
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The lake was restless.
Waves lapped against his legs in erratic patterns, surging one moment and retreating the next. The water’s usual song—a gentle hum that resonated in his mind—was off-key, fractured by discordant notes that made his chest tighten.
The blue stone hanging from his necklace pulsed faintly, its light flickering like a dying flame.
“What’s wrong with you?” he muttered, clutching the stone tightly. “What’s wrong with me?”
The water suddenly surged, splashing up to his chest. Kai stumbled backward, coughing as the icy spray hit his face. He turned sharply toward the shore, where his mentor, Orin, stood with arms crossed.
“Kai,” Orin called, his voice sharp but laced with concern. “It’s late. What are you doing out here?”
Kai waded out of the water, his clothes dripping. “I couldn’t sleep. Something’s off, Orin. The water feels... wrong.”
Orin’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer. He placed a hand on Kai’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “The balance isn’t always perfect, even after what you and the others accomplished. It takes time to stabilize.”
Kai shook his head, his hand tightening around the necklace. “No, this isn’t just instability. It feels like—” He paused, searching for the right words. “It feels like the water’s trying to warn me about something.”
Orin’s expression darkened, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned toward the lake, his gaze distant. Kai followed his mentor’s eyes, but the water was calm now, as if mocking him.
“Go home,” Orin said finally. “Rest. If there’s something wrong, we’ll face it together.”
Kai nodded reluctantly, but as he walked away, the unease in his chest only grew. He glanced down at his necklace, the faint blue glow now steady but dim.
Somehow, he knew this wasn’t over.
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In the Earth Realm, Lina knelt in the middle of a quiet grove, her hands buried in the soil. She loved this time of day—when the sun was just beginning to rise, casting golden light over the rolling hills. The earth beneath her fingers usually felt alive, humming with energy that resonated deep in her bones. But today, it was silent.
The brown stone on her necklace glowed faintly as she poured her energy into the ground, willing the seeds she’d planted to sprout. A small shoot pushed through the soil, but its growth was sluggish, the leaves drooping before they’d even unfurled.
She frowned, brushing dirt from her hands. “What’s wrong with you?”
The earth didn’t respond.
“Lina!”
Her father’s voice broke through the quiet, and she turned to see him jogging toward her. His face was drawn, worry etched into his features.
“There’s been a tremor near the southern fields,” he said. “It wasn’t natural.”
Lina’s heart sank. Earthquakes weren’t unusual in their region, but they were never random. The land always warned her when a shift was coming—except now, it hadn’t.
“I’ll check it out,” she said, standing quickly.
Her father hesitated, his gaze flicking to the stone around her neck. “Be careful,” he said finally.
“I will.”
As she made her way toward the fields, Lina’s fingers brushed against the necklace. The stone was warm, its faint glow steady, but it felt heavier than usual. When she reached the southern fields, her breath caught.
The ground was cracked, the fissures jagged and unnatural. It wasn’t just an earthquake—it was something worse. Lina crouched beside one of the larger cracks, placing her hand on the soil. Normally, the earth would speak to her, revealing what had happened and how to mend it.
But now, there was nothing.
“No,” she whispered, digging her fingers into the dirt. “Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s wrong!”
A faint tremor ran through the ground, almost like a sigh. It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was enough to confirm her fears: something was terribly wrong with the balance.
Lina stood, her fists clenched. She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew she couldn’t face it alone.
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By the time dawn broke, Kai and Lina both had the same thought: they needed to find the others. Whatever was happening, it was bigger than them. And if the faint whispers in their dreams were any indication, time was running out.