He walked into his room, looking around for a moment before striding to a large box in the corner.
He pulled a small key from his pocket and carefully unlocked the lid with a soft click.
The air shifted. Heavy. Sacred. As if the room itself understood the weight of what he was about to do.
He couldn't keep running. Not anymore.
Andrew knelt beside the box and lifted a smaller container from within — a beautiful relic carved with ancient Kingdom symbols. He blew the dust off its surface, and light leaked from the edges, humming low and steady.
Inside were three stones, each glowing faintly — Ruby (Life), Emerald (Growth), and Sapphire (Authority).
Three of the five Vyre Stones — the last hope for balance among realms.
He stared at them for a long time.
Then his eyes drifted to the photograph on his desk — Amanda, smiling, holding up the paper flower she made for him.
His chest ached.
"Forgive me, Amanda," he whispered. "You were never meant for this… but you're the only one I can trust."
He walked into his daughter's room.
The Ruby Vyre Stone, symbol of Life, pulsed faster in his hand — as if it knew what he planned. The warmth seeped into his palm, almost burning.
Andrew drew a sigil on the floor with chalk and a drop of his own blood — a seal of transference.
Ancient words fell from his lips, trembling between love and fear.
The Ruby Stone lifted from his palm, spinning midair, shedding sparks of crimson light that danced around the room like falling stars.
Amanda slept peacefully on the bed, unaware of the storm her father was calling into existence.
The room darkened. The air trembled.
Andrew's jaw tightened.
"Amanda, please forgive me — this father of yours who is about to leave your life to hang by a thread… But whatever I do, I do for you. My duty is to protect you, as your father."
Tears slid down his cheeks as the words left him.
The light burst — a single beam pierced through his chest and into Amanda's. She gasped softly, her body glowing faintly red, a small mark- a little bigger than a birthmark -forming at the right side of the base of her neck— the mark of the Ruby's bond.
The stone vanished. Its hum now echoed faintly within her heartbeat.
Andrew fell to his knees, coughing violently, weak from the drain.
He reached for her hand, smiling faintly through tears.
"I've sealed the stone's presence. You'll be safe… Amanda."
He closed the box, locking away the remaining two stones.
Outside, thunder rumbled — a distant warning that time was running out.
---
The wind blew, carrying the scent of fear and danger. Elton was swallowed in darkness and silence, save for the rolling thunder of the storm ahead.
Somewhere within the blackened sky, a lone figure stood — Zarin.
The man who had haunted the Guardians and made the realms tremble in fear. His mission had just begun. Every card was placed. Every string pulled. All that remained was execution.
"What a beautiful night," he murmured, admiring the chaos in the clouds.
"Soon… soon, it'll all be over."
A wicked smirk split across his face.
---
The thunder cracked sharply, dragging me awake.
I got up quietly and shut the windows. This is going to be a big storm.
I lay back down, hoping for sleep — but it never came. My mind wandered through the day's chaos.
Eric. No doubt he was from the Onyx Dimension.
I could understand his passion to save others with no personal gain — I was living proof of that.
Still… I didn't trust him completely.
He had cleared most of my doubts, but one remained.
What if he's one of Zarin's minions?
Zarin.
What was his next move? I needed to meet Amanda's father as soon as possible… but how? No address, no letters, nothing.
Maybe I'd ask around tomorrow.
If that man truly had what Zarin wanted, maybe we could lure him into an all-out battle.
But… if Zarin was that powerful, why couldn't he just take what he wanted?
Could it be that he didn't know where it was?
Or maybe he couldn't access it without the man's permission.
He'd have to create a situation to force his hand.
Too many possibilities.
Amanda's father was the key — the answer to everything.
I'd have to find him tomorrow.
My mind fell silent for a while. Then another thought suddenly slipped through the cracks.
My parents.
Though Master Xavier raised me, I never truly forgot my biological ones.
I didn't know them, but I always hoped to be someone they could be proud of.
I was a joke compared to my father.
It made me wonder… how he'd look at me now. My father—the man who once led legends—stood at the pinnacle of power. And I, his son, struggle to even stand beside my own shadow. There's irony in that… a cruel, quiet kind of irony that never fades.
Every Guardian carries royal blood. Master Xavier, my father—they were both born into crowns and destinies. That makes Tyra and me royals with no kingdom to rule, no throne to return to. Yet I never saw myself as higher than the rest. We were a generation born of ruins, chosen by Master Xavier himself from the forgotten corners of orphanages and blessed beneath the gaze of the Council of Dragons. Children of war, sculpted into weapons.
Still… one question refuses to die. If I am truly the son of the former leader, how did Master Xavier know or The Council? I was just another nameless boy from an orphanage. There were no scrolls, no markings—nothing that tied me to a bloodline.
I never questioned Master Xavier. Whatever he revealed, I accepted. Whatever he concealed, I buried with him. But lately, the silence between us feels like the edge of a blade pressing against my throat.
For the first time, I feel the weight of doubt crawling beneath my skin. Who am I—really? The son of a fallen leader… or a name written into someone else's story?
There's something Master Xavier isn't telling us. Something about who we are, and why we were chosen. He knows something, something he's kept buried beneath his calm words and patient eyes. And whatever that truth is… it's not just about me. It's something we all need to hear—before it's too late.