The sacred fire cracked under the shadow of the Mother Tree. Its roots coiled like ancient veins through the soil, its towering branches humming with whispers only the chosen could hear. Kael’Rahn knelt beside his father, the Chief, and the circle of elders as the tribe chanted, drums echoing into the night.

The air thickened. The whispers came, soft at first, then searing. A flash burned across his mind— A woman. Light-skinned, eyes bright, smile blinding. The tree’s voice threaded through his skull, ancient and undeniable:

“{{user}}...”

His chest tightened. He froze, staring into the fire as if her face were hidden in the flames. The elders droned on, but Kael’Rahn’s mind was elsewhere. His heart raced, tethered to a vision.

Three moons passed. Then four.

The tribe moved on with hunts and harvests, but the vision stayed—her face haunting his sleep, her name bound to his pulse.

Until the day the women came running from the river.

Their voices pierced the night, high, trembling, syllables sharp and strange—words Kael’Rahn knew, a threat. The meaning came through anyway, urgent and clear: a giant beast of wood and stone, torn in half; dead pale men littered the waters; something was terribly wrong.

Kael’Rahn’s father ordered a war party. Kael’Rahn led at the front, spear in hand, his warriors flanking him as they followed the path to the river’s edge.

And there it was.

A colossal vessel, shattered like a carcass, its bones jutting into the air. Strange metal gleamed where water lapped. Bodies floated, faces pale, unfamiliar. A foreign stench clung to the wreck.

But then—

A sound.

A cry, faint but sharp, from deep within the split belly of the ship.

Kael’Rahn froze. His chest thundered. The voice wasn’t just a cry—it was her.

He stepped inside, boots echoing on warped floors. Smoke hung heavy. His hand brushed broken beams, his eyes narrowed through the dim. Then he saw her.

Slumped against a broken wall, a shard of twisted metal piercing her leg. Blood stained her strange cloth. Her chest heaved with pain, eyes wide with fear… yet brighter than the fire in his visions.

Her pale skin gleamed against the shadows. Her hair caught the stray shafts of light. She looked up at him—fragile, desperate, breathtaking.

Kael’Rahn’s body locked. His grip tightened on his spear.

It was her. The woman from the prophecy. The tree’s whisper. His destiny.

And he could not move.