Chronicles of the Aetherborn

The wind shifted.

Jordan tightened his cloak around his shoulders as a warm breeze brushed against his face, carrying the scent of burning bark and something sweet—like honey and smoke. They had crossed the eastern ridge of the village at dawn, Ariana leading him through an overgrown trail winding toward a place she simply called "the borderlands."

The sky was a pale silver-blue, thick clouds hanging above the horizon like tired ghosts. The ground beneath them changed gradually—soft grass giving way to dry, reddish soil flecked with black ash.

They had entered the Flamewood.

"Why do they call it that?" Jordan asked, eyeing the crimson leaves above them that shimmered like embers with every gust.

"Because the forest never dies," Ariana said quietly. "Even when it burns."

Jordan frowned. "So it's on fire?"

"Not always. But sometimes… it breathes." She glanced back at him. "And when it does, the trees burn from the inside. Like the forest is purging something."

Jordan glanced around uneasily. The trees were twisted, their bark a deep mahogany laced with glowing veins of red and orange. They looked alive, like they were watching.

A Presence in the WoodsThey walked for hours, silence their only company until the air thickened—like they had stepped underwater.

Jordan stopped.

"Something's here."

Ariana nodded. "She knows."

"She?"

A voice, soft and melodic, echoed through the trees. "You've come far, Aetherborn."

Jordan turned quickly, but no one was there. Then, from between two towering trees draped in glowing moss, a figure stepped out.

She was elven—tall, graceful, with silver-blonde hair cascading down her back like moonlight over water. Her skin shimmered faintly, and her violet eyes held an ancient sadness. Around her, the forest seemed to hold its breath.

"I am Serenya Val'Elarin," she said. "Guardian of this wood. And you walk in dangerous shadow."

Jordan opened his mouth to speak, but Ariana was already moving forward, bowing her head slightly.

"We seek passage. He means no harm."

Serenya's gaze lingered on Jordan. "And yet harm follows him. The Flamewood knows. It showed me a vision… blood, betrayal, and a boy with gold fire in his eyes."

Jordan blinked. "Gold?"

Ariana looked at him, unsettled.

Serenya stepped closer, tilting her head. "You hide your power well. But the forest remembers the breath of the First Aetherborn. The mark is in you."

"I didn't ask for it," Jordan muttered.

"No one ever does," she replied.

The WarningA screech split the air above them. Dark shapes flew across the sky—massive winged beasts with armored riders on their backs.

Ariana's eyes widened. "Kingdom scouts."

"From which kingdom?" Jordan asked.

"Doesn't matter. If they see you, they'll assume the worst."

Serenya raised her hands and whispered in an ancient tongue. Vines and leaves closed above them, cloaking their position. The scouts passed overhead, their mounts screeching before vanishing beyond the horizon.

"Why are they after me?" Jordan asked once the air was quiet again.

"Because word has spread," Serenya said. "A human boy fell from a Rift. Villages whisper of strange magic and a ruined sigil burned into the earth. Kings are not fond of unknowns. Especially ones born from power they cannot control."

A Fork in the PathAs night approached, the three of them gathered beneath a wide tree whose roots formed a natural arch.

Serenya handed Jordan a pale fruit that glowed faintly. "Eat. It'll help you recover."

"I'm not hurt," he said, but his body said otherwise. He ached from the journey, from training, from… holding back.

He sat beside the fire Ariana had built and looked into the flames. They danced like the symbols he had seen in the void—the ones that called to him.

"You're getting stronger," Ariana said, watching him. "But something's off. You're holding back."

"I don't know what I'm holding," Jordan said honestly. "It's just… there. Like something waiting to break loose."

"Then let it," Serenya said, her voice a whisper in the wind. "Not tonight. But soon."

ForeshadowingAs they settled in for the night, Jordan drifted into a strange dream.

He stood alone in a city of black stone, rain falling upward, lightning flashing golden across a broken sky. At the center of the city was a throne—empty—but voices called from beneath it.

He stepped forward, and the shadows whispered a name.

"Keane…"

His hands caught fire, but it wasn't heat. It was power. Wild. Hungry. Ancient.

He screamed—

And woke up gasping.

Ariana sat up beside him. "You were glowing."

He stared at his hands. The mark from the Rift had returned, faint but burning against his skin.

Serenya stood at the edge of the clearing, eyes glowing.

"The world is shifting," she said. "And the Aether within you is waking."