Chapter 1: Black smoke in a silver storm

Jun’s servant, Lira, jumped as her quiet melody was drowned out by the sheet of rain racing across the land. It struck a dissonant chord in Jun’s mind, pulling at memories—a mother's voice, a father's departure. He clenched his left fist, frustrated by the haunting memories where his ‘other past’ should be. Blast! He turned away from the scribbled notes on his desk, shifting the splinters of a wood carving, when a knock pulled him free from the mental churn.

“Come in.” His words were gruff, stilted. Mei Kasai, the daughter of his former life, sightless eyes immediately found him.

“Old Man,” Her greeting was casual yet loaded. He winced, looking at her, struggling to recall a life they had shared. His hand moved to the pages he had written, their scrawled words the only reason he knew any of this.

“What is it?”

As she spoke, his right ear began to itch, the physical sensation overriding her voice.

‘Jun! The docks. Hurry!’ The command from this world’s keeper shrieked in his mind. His carving tool clattered off the table. The sound was swallowed by the distant boom of thunder, but the frantic looks on Lira and Mei’s faces told him they knew something had changed. He shook his head, teeth gritting.

“Mei, let’s move.”

Her feet fell in step with his as they rushed out into the storm, heavy pour obscuring their sight. Mei split off after he explained about the keeper, The Silver Flame’s warning. Her shrill whistle summoned her new family, the Kasai Clan. While she gathered help, Jun headed to the ridge. Cresting the peak, he looked out at the dock, peering into the silver rain, searching for the source.

‘Look out!’ The Silver Flame’s voice seared his right ear.

Jun ducked as a deep, metallic thunder erupted from the harbor, rocking the ridge and knocking him to the ground. He cried out as a sudden, searing ache raced in his scarred right arm. Circulating the magic power of this world, this prayer, he forced a healing warmth into the limb. The pain subsided just as a column of black smoke and a wave of heat arose. The last boat was gone.

His wide eyes refused to comprehend it. However, his instincts kicked in. People were injured. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move. As he ran down the slope his ears heard the screams of confusion, then the command of The White Flame, Amalie. He nodded. At least she was nearby.

With eyes glued to the shore he pushed past the scattering, panicked crowd. Other healers began to gather. Jun caught sight of one in particular, Solara Silver. He called to her and she returned the greeting. As he came by her side, he shook his head. They couldn’t wait. His feet carried him into the storm-tossed sea. A wave threatened to undermine his action as a primal fear surged. He closed his eyes, refusing to give in. A cracking sound drew him from his internal war. His eyes opened in time to see a road of ice form beside him, heading to the ship.

“Use this, you idiot!” He snapped his head around, catching sight of a woman bound to a silver chair at the edge of the docks. Elain? He hauled himself onto the polished, treacherous surface of the bridge. Elain sat a hundred feet away, her icy, ruby eyes blazing with terrifying intensity. She’s weird, insane, and mean, he thought, the assessment automatic, clinical. Why did I ever love her? Then he saw the desperate strain in her face, the way her eyes darted to the victims, and he sighed. Because sometimes her good heart overrode everything else.

Solara ran up to him and the two carried on, sparing no glance, their focus entirely on the burning ship and people as the victims cried for help.