Joshua Wise jolted awake, heart thundering like a storm trapped in his chest, bedsheets twisted around him like the threads of a fading nightmare. London's morning pulse hummed beyond his window—car horns slicing through the soft drizzle, voices weaving into the city's restless heartbeat, the gray dawn casting a muted glow over the world. His room was a familiar chaos: a desk cluttered with pencils, crumpled energy drink cans, and a notebook spilling lyrics of ash and endless voids, his school blazer slung over a chair like a discarded memory. The Silvergrove's twilight forest—silver leaves shimmering under starlit skies, Sylvara's laughter chiming like distant bells, Artemis's voice roaring like thunder—clung to his mind, vivid yet unraveling, a dream slipping through his fingers like mist. He scrubbed his eyes, golden-yellow irises catching the dawn's dim light, and muttered, "Just a dream." But his palms thrummed, the Solar Ember—his strange, inner fire—pulsing softly, a restless spark whispering truths he wasn't ready to face.
The silence was heavy, no chirp to break it. The Phoenix Phantom, with its ember-red feathers and molten-gold eyes that had curled beside him last night, was gone, vanished into the Solar Ember within him, leaving his bed cold and his heart uneasy. "Where'd you go?" he whispered, half-expecting a reply, but only the city's hum answered. Shaking off the chill, he rolled out of bed, oxfords thudding against the floor, and grabbed his school bag. In his rush, he tossed in what he thought was his history textbook, missing the worn leather cover etched with silver runes, its weight foreign, its pages humming faintly with a life of their own. It wasn't his—never bought, likely stolen by the Phoenix from Priya, the girl whose moon-hero tales cut too close to reality. The Solar Ember pulsed, as if sensing the book's presence, but Joshua, distracted, slung the bag over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
The kitchen smelled of warm toast and coffee, a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon waiting on the counter, a sticky note in his mother's neat handwriting: Early date, eat up! Love you, Josh. Her excitement radiated from the words, a rare lightness that felt like a stranger's. She'd left before he woke, off to meet her new partner, her joy unaware of the shadows lurking in Joshua's world. He scarfed down the breakfast, the vial from yesterday heavy in his pocket, its fleeting calm a reminder of burns and the Phoenix's tricks. The Solar Ember stirred, a spark of warmth, but no chirps answered, only the faint hum of the stolen book in his bag, unnoticed.
He sighed, guilt twisting like a blade in his chest, and grabbed his bag, the stolen book's hum a faint undercurrent as he headed out into the rain-slicked streets.
London's pulse was jagged, the air heavy with an unseen weight as Joshua walked to school. His bag bounced against his hip, the book's hum growing louder, a discordant note he didn't yet hear. The school courtyard buzzed with life—Lila twirling her pink backpack, chattering about a new band's single, her voice a bright spark in the gray morning; Tom kicking a football against the wall, dodging a teacher's scowl with a grin; Sarah sketching in a corner, her glasses slipping as she muttered about art club deadlines. Joshua's gaze drifted to the community garden, a small patch of defiance tucked beside the library, its roses blooming vividly against the rain-soaked earth. Yumi's face flashed in his mind—her soft smile warring with her fear from yesterday. On impulse, he veered toward the garden, the Solar Ember humming faintly, as if approving. He plucked a single rose, its red petals bold and fragile, a quiet vow to mend things with her. Tucking it into his jacket, he hurried to the library steps where Yumi always sat.
Yumi was there, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, pencil dancing across her sketchbook, capturing worlds Joshua could only imagine. Leo lounged beside her, tossing a crumpled paper ball, his grin faltering as he spotted Joshua. "Yo, Josh," Leo called, voice light but edged, like he was testing the air. "Where you been, man? You ghosted yesterday. Yumi was losing it." Yumi's gaze lifted, her brown eyes a mix of worry and warmth, piercing Joshua's heart like a melody he couldn't shake.
"I'm okay," Joshua said, voice rough, the rose in his jacket burning like a confession. He stepped closer, ignoring Leo's raised brow, and pulled out the rose, its petals vivid against the gray morning, plucked from the school's community garden. "Yumi, I… got this for you." His face warmed, the Solar Ember flaring faintly, echoing his nerves. Yumi's cheeks flushed, her fingers brushing his as she took the rose, a small smile breaking through her hesitation, her touch sending a spark through him.
"Thanks, Josh," she said softly, her voice a gentle note that steadied his racing heart. But as her fingers curled around the rose, the air shivered, a violet shimmer tearing through the sky above the courtyard. The stolen book in Joshua's bag pulsed, its runes glowing silver, a heartbeat that wasn't his. The Phoenix's absence ached, its essence buried in his Solar Ember, stirring restlessly. Classmates froze—Lila's chatter cut off, Tom's football rolled to a stop, Sarah's pencil stilled—as the rift widened, a jagged wound in reality, its edges crackling with violet light.
A swirling black mist erupted, curling like living smoke from the rift's edge. Nyro stepped through, silver-white hair dimly catching the faint light, turquoise-blue eyes narrowed, shadows coiling around him with barely restrained menace. His black coat billowed, shadow rippling with those eerie white eyes, his posture stiff but subservient to Artemis's will. "Joshua, stop!" he snapped, voice sharp yet tethered to deference, his gaze locked on the rose in Yumi's hand. "You don't know what you're doing. That flower—it's a catalyst!" But it was too late. The rose glowed faintly, responding to Yumi's touch, its petals shimmering with a light that mirrored the rift's violet pulse.
Joshua's palms burned, the Solar Ember roaring to life, not flames but a raw, untamed heat surging through his veins. "What's happening?" he shouted, heart racing, but the rift's hum drowned his voice, sharp and discordant, like the Silvergrove's song twisted into a warning. Yumi's eyes widened, clutching the rose, her voice lost in the growing roar. Leo stumbled back, muttering, "What the hell is that?" The book's glow intensified, Priya's stories—stolen by the Phoenix—tying Joshua to the rift's pull.
Nyro's shadow surged, white eyes flaring, his annoyance palpable but restrained by Artemis's command. "You've awakened it, you fool!" he hissed, stepping closer, his voice low but urgent, eyes flicking to Yumi's rose. "The Veiled Dominion calls, and you're not ready!" The rift pulsed, its violet light swallowing the courtyard, the school fading as the air grew thick with the scent of moss and starlight, a realm beyond the Mortal Veil. Joshua's vision blurred, the Solar Ember a wildfire within him, and he felt it—the spark of rifting, a tide of fire and shadow dragging him forward. Yumi's hand brushed his, the rose a fleeting anchor, as Nyro's warning echoed, too late. The violet light consumed them—Joshua and Nyro—pulling them into the Veiled Dominion, a realm of endless shadows and unseen threats, where the world dissolved into darkness.