Chapter Two: The Hunt Begins
The rain came without warning.
Greywick's streets, already slick from the day's mist, turned into mirrored rivers as cold sheets of water poured down from the night sky. Kairo pulled his hood low and kept moving, heart pounding against his ribs. The Tear felt heavier now, as if the small sphere in his pouch had gained weight… maybe even consciousness.
Every turn of the alley was dangerous—lanterns casting flickering shadows onto wet stone—but nowhere felt safe.
By the time he ducked into a half-collapsed storage house, his legs were burning from the sprint. He slammed the door shut and pressed his back against the wall, forcing himself to breathe quietly.
That's when he heard it.
A thud—slow, deliberate—somewhere outside. Then another. Someone was following him.
Before Kairo could peek through the broken slats, the door to the storage house rattled violently. A blade stabbed through the wood just inches from his face, splintering it apart. Instinct took over—he rolled across the floor, snatching his small dagger from his belt.
The door tore open.
A figure stepped inside—tall, clad in iron armor blackened by fire, with a red cloth masking the lower half of his face. His eyes glowed faintly amber, the mark of a trained mercenary from the eastern reaches of Vaelborn. He didn't hesitate.
"Hand it over, boy," the mercenary growled. "The Tear belongs to the *Order of the Ember Sun.*"
Kairo's mind raced. *Order of the Ember Sun?* He'd never heard of them—but they knew what he'd stolen.
Instead of answering, Kairo darted toward the far window. But the mercenary was fast—unnaturally fast—closing the gap with a speed that forced Kairo to twist aside. A fist like stone slammed into the wall where Kairo's head had been.
Rain poured through the shattered roof as they struggled, slipping on wet boards, the sounds of clashing steel echoing in the narrow space. Kairo slashed with his dagger, and though it barely nicked the man's armor, the mercenary stumbled for a moment—just long enough for Kairo to shove past him and leap into the alley.
He didn't get far.
Two more figures stepped from the shadows, both wearing masks shaped like stylized suns, their cloaks trailing embers that didn't extinguish in the rain.
One of them spoke in a voice that was far too calm for the chaos around them:
"You've made a terrible mistake, boy. That Tear doesn't just grant power—it awakens the last Celestial Dragon. And once awakened, it chooses its bearer… forever."
Kairo hardly had time to react before a blinding streak of gold light cut through the air between them.
It was her.
The hooded woman from before. She stood at the mouth of the alley, her cloak now billowing as if caught in an unseen wind. In her hand was a blade unlike any Kairo had seen—a pale, translucent sword that seemed more like crystal than steel.
"I warned you," she said, her voice carrying through the rain. "They are here for the Tear. And they will burn the city dry to get it."
She moved in a flash, striking at the masked figures. Sparks flew in the downpour. Kairo didn't wait to see the outcome—his feet carried him blindly deeper into Greywick, cutting through side streets until the sound of battle faded behind him.
When he finally stopped, drenched and shivering, he found himself at the edge of the Old Docks—where tides carried the smell of salt and rot, and thick fog clung to the black water. The city's lights looked distant here, swallowed by the storm.
That's when the Tear began to glow.
Kairo froze. The pouch at his side pulsed with warmth, the golden-blue light piercing through soaked leather as if calling out to the storm itself. And then… he saw it again.
The colossal shape in the darkness.
But this time, it wasn't a vision. It was *inside the fog*, a shadow so massive it bent the mist around it. The water beneath shivered in perfect rhythm to its breathing.
The dragon.
Its eyes caught his—bright as twin suns—before the shadow melted back into the storm.
Suddenly, hands grabbed him from behind. He was yanked backward into a narrow hold under the docks, muffled from the wind and rain. Light flared—oil lamps revealing a cramped room stuffed with maps, weapons, and strange artifacts.
The hooded woman stood there, sword laid against the wall, staring at him.
"My name is Serenya," she said. "And if you want to live, you'll come with me. The Ember Sun will not stop. And the Tear… is awakening"
Serenya reveals that the Tear cannot be destroyed—it bonds to whoever first touches it. The bond is sealed with fragments of the dragon's soul, meaning Kairo now carries part of an ancient cosmic being within him.
The Order of the Ember Sun isn't just after power—they want the dragon fully awakened so they can harness its wrath to scorch Vaelborn's enemies.
The visions Kairo is seeing aren't random—each one is the dragon testing him. If Kairo fails these "chosen trials," the Tear will consume him completely.
The chapter closes with Serenya pushing a drenched map toward him, revealing their next move—traveling through the perilous Glass Wastes to reach an ancient temple before the Order does. As thunder cracks above the docks, we see in the final line:
> "You've stolen the world's last chance at survival," Serenya whispered. "Now you must earn it."