The night had grown still by the time Hine finally drifted into uneasy sleep. The sanctuary around her was quiet, the distant hum of the ley lines muted as if even the elements dared not disturb her. The Silent Soul sat in his usual vigil against the far wall, eyes dimly glowing in the faint blue of the sanctuary's light. He had said nothing since the oracle's warning, and though Hine tried to match his calm, the words clung to her like a curse.
Deaths without end.
Sleep was supposed to be an escape, but when her consciousness sank, she found herself standing somewhere else entirely.
The air was heavy with the scent of cinders. Hine opened her eyes to a vast, open plain bathed in an otherworldly red glow. The sky churned like liquid fire, streaked with flashes of gold that pulsed like veins. The ground beneath her feet was cracked and dry, each fissure glowing faintly with molten light. She realized immediately that this was not a dream born of her own mind.
Something ancient was pulling her in.
"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice carrying strangely in the empty expanse.
There was no immediate answer. Only the sharp hiss of wind that seemed to breathe against the cracks in the earth. Then, far ahead, a shape emerged through the rippling heat.
A figure.
At first, it looked human, cloaked in a robe of deep crimson stitched with golden patterns that writhed as though alive. Their hair spilled down their shoulders like pale silver flame, catching the light in a way that made Hine squint. When they finally lifted their face, she was struck by their eyes: molten amber, sharp and endless, like staring into the core of the sun.
The figure smiled, though it was not unkind.
"You have been walking the edges of my reach for some time, Hine of Teyvat," the figure said, their voice soft yet ringing with quiet authority. "It is only now that the shard has allowed the connection."
"Who are you?" Hine asked, taking a cautious step forward. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her throat.
The figure tilted their head slightly. "Ronova. That is the name you will remember. Though many before you have called me by other names—guardian, flame, betrayer, savior... it matters little now."
Hine blinked, trying to ground herself. "Why am I here? Is this… because of the shard?"
Ronova moved closer, their presence radiating warmth that bordered on suffocating. "Yes. The shard you carry is a fragment of something greater, something that once bound Teyvat's balance together. It recognizes you. It chose you long before you could understand its weight."
A swirl of ash rose around them, suspended in the heated air like dancing embers. Hine felt her skin prickle under the intensity of their gaze.
"I did not ask for any of this," she said, her voice trembling despite herself. "I never wanted power, or shards, or… whatever this is."
Ronova's expression softened, though their amber eyes remained piercing. "None ever do. The burden chooses its bearer, not the other way around. But you, Hine… you are different. Your blood hums with an echo that has not stirred in generations. That is why the shard awakened when you bled. That is why your flames answered you."
Hine shook her head, trying to push away the rising unease. "You're saying I'm… special? That's—no. I'm just a girl who got caught in something I don't understand."
Ronova smiled faintly, though there was no mockery in it. "And yet, even as you deny it, your essence burns brighter with each passing trial. You think those flames you summoned were born of desperation alone? No. That was your lineage calling to you. The fire is not a gift. It is a memory. One buried so deep, even you have forgotten."
The plain trembled underfoot, a low rumble vibrating through the cracked earth. Hine tried to steady herself, but the shifting ground forced her to drop to one knee.
"What are you saying?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "What am I supposed to do with this? With you?"
"You will understand in time," Ronova said, their tone gentler now, as if speaking to a child on the verge of a revelation. "This dream is only the first thread of what binds us. But know this, Hine. The path you walk will lead you to flames that do not forgive. Every step you take will demand something of you. And in the end…" Their voice lowered, almost mournful. "…it will demand everything."
The heat surged suddenly, whipping through the plain like a roaring inferno. The embers turned into streaks of fire spiraling upward into the bleeding sky. Hine tried to shield her face, but the wind cut through her defenses, burning her lungs with every breath.
"Wait," she coughed, struggling to see through the blaze. "If you know so much, then tell me... what am I fighting? What is coming?"
For the first time, Ronova's expression faltered, a shadow crossing those brilliant amber eyes.
"Not what," they said quietly, "but who. And they have already begun to watch you."
Before Hine could ask anything more, the ground gave way beneath her. She felt herself falling through the cracked earth, flames spiraling with her as the sky fractured into shards of molten light.
Then, silence.
She woke with a sharp gasp, her body jolting upright in the dim glow of the sanctuary. Sweat clung to her skin, and her pulse thundered in her ears. The Silent Soul was immediately at her side, his glowing eyes narrowing as he took in her trembling hands and wide, panicked stare.
"You saw something," he said, not a question but a statement.
Hine swallowed hard, her voice hoarse. "Ronova," she whispered, as if saying the name too loudly would make it vanish. "I… I saw them. They spoke to me. They said…" Her words faltered under the weight of the memory.
The Silent Soul studied her for a long moment, silent as ever, but his expression... though subtle... shifted. Concern. Maybe even fear.
"Ronova," he repeated, his voice almost reverent. "Then the shard truly has awakened."
Hine's breath came out shaky, her mind spinning with the words Ronova had left her. She stared down at her hands, at the faint warmth that still lingered in her palms.
A burden she had not chosen. A path that would demand everything.
And somewhere deep inside, beneath the confusion and fear, a spark of fire began to stir again.