The fading light of the desert painted the sky in streaks of amber and violet as Frost and Rant trudged across the sunbaked dunes. The air still shimmered with lingering heat, though the sun had slipped below the horizon. Behind them, the tracks of their battle were already being swallowed by shifting sands—the monstrous serpent now gone, banished by the mysterious man's eerie presence.
Rant adjusted the strap on his shoulder, shifting the sealed container carrying the Summer Petal. His brows were furrowed. "That guy… the way the Mystic just backed off. You felt that too, right?"
Frost nodded. "It wasn't just power. It was history. Legacy. Something older than all of us."
They didn't speak again until the silhouette of a rocky outcropping appeared in the distance—one crowned by campfire light.
There they were. Rylan, Blaze, Grace, Riley, Joy, and James gathered under the open stars, their faces lighting up as the pair approached. The reunion was swift and tight; Rylan clapped Rant's shoulder with a grin while Joy wrapped Frost in a relieved hug.
"You made it!" Rylan said. "We saw the sky flare all the way from here."
"Not without help," Frost replied, gesturing behind him.
The man lay unconscious still, draped in his scorched brown robe adorned with golden flame motifs. He rested beside the fire now, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His cuffs shimmered faintly with arcane symbols, and the pendant around his neck pulsed in rhythm with the flames.
They gathered around him as the desert's chill set in. Grace placed a damp cloth on his forehead, and Riley brewed something herbal from their satchels.
"Who do you think he is?" James asked, squinting at the pendant.
"No idea," Blaze said, arms folded. "But whatever he did scared that beast half to death."
Hours passed. Stars glittered above like distant watchers, and most of the group drifted to rest. But Rylan remained alert, gazing into the fire.
Then the man stirred.
With a sudden inhale, he sat up, hand reaching instinctively toward the pendant. His eyes were a searing gold, ancient and piercing. They swept across the group as if measuring their souls.
"You're awake," Rylan said cautiously.
The man didn't respond immediately. He blinked, steadying himself before speaking in a voice laced with fatigue and fire.
"I am… Taiyo Yosei. The last flame of a forgotten legacy."
"The last…?" Riley echoed.
Taiyo's gaze drifted toward the stars. "I hail from the Sun-Fire Clan, a lineage born in the heart of the sun. For centuries, we protected something precious… someone precious. The Vessel."
Everyone stilled.
"Our mission was sacred. My clan guarded the Vessel from those who would misuse its power. But… we failed."
He gripped the edge of his robe, knuckles pale.
"When the Vessel escaped containment years ago, we lost more than a charge. We lost our purpose. One by one, we fell—to time, to pursuit, to despair. Without the Vessel to protect, the flame of our bloodline waned. Now…" His voice cracked. "Now I am all that remains."
Silence fell like a shroud. Only the crackling of the fire remained.
"I was tracking the Mystics," Taiyo continued, "seeking the seasonal petals. I believed reclaiming them might lead me back to the Vessel. But if we fail to stop the final Mystic, others—those with darker aims—will gather the petals for themselves."
Rylan leaned forward. "And if they do?"
"They will awaken the Vessel… not as a guardian, but as a weapon."
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
"We've already fought three Mystics," Blaze said. "We've got three petals. One left."
"Then we fight alongside you," Rylan added. "All of us."
Taiyo's eyes softened, the first sign of emotion beyond grief. "You would risk everything?"
"The Vessel might be the key to stopping this madness—or the start of something worse. We can't just let it fall into the wrong hands."
Frost nodded. "We've come this far together."
"And we're not leaving anyone behind," Grace added firmly.
Taiyo closed his eyes. "Very well. Then we go together."
Before they could turn in for the night, Blaze stepped closer to the firelight, eyes narrowed. "There's one thing I need to know. What exactly are dark petals?"
Taiyo's expression darkened.
"Dark petals… are the corrupted shadows of the seasonal petals. Forged from malice, tainted by the abyss. While the petals you seek awaken the Vessel with harmony and balance, dark petals do the opposite. They bind."
"Bind?" Rylan asked.
"They encrypt the Vessel's will, shackle its soul, and turn it into a puppet of whoever awakens it. A slave dressed in divine light. A god forced to serve its master."
A chill swept through the camp.
"So if someone else gets to the Vessel first…" Grace began.
"They won't awaken a savior," Taiyo said grimly. "They'll unleash a destroyer."
Far away, within the walls of VritraMaho Academy, moonlight spilled across cold marble floors. The air was thick with incense and silence.
In the forbidden wing of the infirmary, a cloaked figure moved with purpose. Draped in obsidian cloth trimmed with violet runes, he approached a chamber bound by warding sigils. Within it, the Vessel lay—unmoving, pale, almost lifeless.
The boy had not stirred since the incident months ago. The scholars claimed his mind was lost, his body dormant. But the cloaked man knew better.
He stepped through the barrier, unaffected by its hum. From within his sleeve, he drew four black petals—veined with silver, cold to the touch. He placed them on the boy's chest in a precise pattern.
"Your time has come," he whispered.
The petals pulsed with an eerie glow. The sigils etched into the chamber walls flickered, then cracked.
The boy's fingers twitched.
His eyes snapped open—one a deep, inky black, the other a crimson blaze.
From the corner of the chamber, shadows recoiled as power surged.
The cloaked man smiled beneath his hood. "The seal has been broken."