The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy as the last embers of the battle cooled. Birds dared to sing again. The forest, though bruised and scorched, exhaled.
Li Wei's eyes lingered on the rising sun. He sheathed the Blade of Aether, its glow dimming with reluctance. "They'll come again. Stronger next time."
Bo Qian nodded as he knelt beside one of the fallen assassins, removing the jackal-shaped mask. Beneath it, the face was young—too young.
"They're using the indoctrinated," he said grimly. "Children raised in shadow temples. No fear. No soul left."
Yu Lin, still radiant with the light of the Astral Weavers, stood behind him. Her voice was quiet. "Then we free what remains. Or end their suffering."
A heavy silence followed. Then Mei Ling broke it.
"We need to reach the Moonwell Citadel. The Ancients may still heed us."
Li Wei turned to her. "Do you think they'll help?"
"They have to," she replied. "They guard the leyline where heaven and earth merge. If anyone can interpret the prophecy, it's them."
---
Their journey to the citadel was a grueling climb. Hidden in the cliffs of the Verdant Spire, the Moonwell Citadel floated between waterfalls and clouds, visible only during dawn's first breath. The trail was narrow, carved by pilgrims who sought answers from the sky.
As they approached, strange energies began to swirl. Petals from unseen flowers drifted in the air. Time felt slower.
Yu Lin paused. "We're entering a sacred rift. Reality is thinner here."
The gates of the citadel loomed ahead—massive arches of jade and silver, etched with the runes of the First Era. Two figures waited beneath them: moon-robed monks with silver-blind eyes. Their gazes pierced through the physical.
"The Flame Bearers approach," one said. "The echoes of your steps have already been heard."
Li Wei bowed respectfully. "We seek the guidance of the Star Seers."
The monks stepped aside wordlessly, allowing them to enter.
---
Inside, the Moonwell Citadel was a realm of its own. Floating staircases, pools of liquid starlight, and echoes of music that played without source. Everything shimmered faintly, like dew kissed by moonlight.
The group was led to the Hall of Mirrors—a dome of glass and moonstone. There, seated around a spiraling map of the constellations, were the Star Seers: twelve figures in shifting robes, each representing one of the celestial guardians.
"You come burdened," the oldest seer said. Her voice was both young and ancient.
Yu Lin stepped forward. "We've awakened the Jade Flame. But darkness follows. The Forgotten King stirs. We need the prophecy interpreted. What comes next?"
The seers conferred, their voices a melody of thoughts. Then, the dome dimmed, and stars appeared above.
"The prophecy was written not in words—but in alignments," said another. "Tonight, the Dragon's Spine will align with the Phoenix's Wing. That has not happened since the Sundering."
Mei Ling paled. "That's when the celestial bridge to the spirit realms collapsed."
Li Wei clenched his fists. "What does that mean for us?"
The head seer gestured toward the center of the dome, where starlight formed an image—a city wreathed in flame, falling into a chasm of hands.
"The Heart of the Realm will be tested. One shall rise, one shall fall, and one shall choose between sacrifice and salvation."
Yu Lin's voice shook. "What does that mean?"
But the vision faded.
---
Later that night, Li Wei stood alone atop one of the citadel's towers. The stars above him shimmered as if they knew his name.
Bo Qian joined him, silent at first.
"You think it's you? The one who'll have to choose?"
Li Wei sighed. "I don't know. But if it is, I'll choose them. Every time."
"Even if the cost is your life?"
Li Wei looked back at the citadel's glowing heart. "Especially then."
Below, unknown to them, a crack formed in the reality around the citadel. A rift opened—small, invisible to all but the deepest senses.
And from it, a whisper escaped.
"Soon."
---