Far across the deserts of Takarra, where the golden sands stretch endlessly beneath a merciless sun, a storm was brewing. Not in the sky—but in the heart of a young woman standing barefoot atop the dunes.
Her name was Naeya.
Clad in wind-swept robes stitched from silver thread and desert silk, her presence was both radiant and untamed. Her long, raven-black hair whipped like wild ribbons around her face, and her amber eyes glinted with a secret power.
The people of the desert whispered about her—The Wind-Binder, the girl who could calm sandstorms with a whisper and call the falcons from the cliffs with a single breath.
But Naeya did not feel like a legend. She felt… restless.
She had dreamt of fire again the night before.
Not the desert's fire—but a different one. One that whispered her name and showed her visions of a girl with glowing hands and a song that cracked the stars.
She had seen Sera.
And Sera had called to her.
---
At the edge of the oasis village, Naeya's grandmother—a wise old woman with eyes like dried honey—was tending to a dying tree. She felt the shift in the air before she even looked up.
"You've made your choice," she said softly.
Naeya stepped into view, her gaze solemn. "The dream is getting louder."
The old woman nodded. "It means she's awakened. And the old pacts are stirring again."
Naeya hesitated. "What if I'm not ready?"
Her grandmother chuckled, brushing sand from the bark with trembling fingers. "Child, no one ever is. But wind does not ask permission to blow—it just moves. And so must you."
Naeya reached into her cloak and pulled out a crystal shard, humming softly in her hand. The wind immediately circled her, forming spirals in the sand.
"I'll find her," Naeya whispered. "And when I do... we'll tear down the veil that blinds this world."
---
Elsewhere…
From a high tower in a city of floating spires, a cloaked figure watched Naeya through a shimmering scrying orb. His face was hidden behind a silver mask etched with strange runes.
Behind him stood a council of beings draped in void-black robes. One of them hissed, "Another piece of the melody is awake."
The masked figure tilted his head. "First the Starborn. Now the Wind-Binder."
"Shall we intervene?"
"No," he replied. "Not yet. Let them find each other. Let them feel hope…"
His fingers tapped the edge of the orb.
"…before we remind them who truly holds the final verse."
---
Back in the desert…
Naeya stepped onto her sand-runner—an enormous feline-like creature with scale-plated legs and a plume of feathers on its tail. She gave it a gentle nudge, and it bounded off toward the eastern horizon, where a silver storm crackled in the distance.
Behind her, the desert wind howled—as if carrying a message to the stars.
A new piece of the prophecy had awakened.