Year forty-one of the Firefolk Era, spring equinox.
Morning in Gray Ridge Village no longer held only the soft crackle of cooking fires.
Fresh green climbed the tips of the old locust tree. Before the morning mist had lifted, more than a dozen children had gathered outside the old schoolhouse at the village's edge. They sat in a circle, with neither books nor scrolls in their hands, and simply sang softly:
Their voices rang clear as dew dripping from leaf tips, as flames making their first leap. Suddenly, the ground trembled faintly—the Heart Flame River's Light Vein rose and fell with their song, as though answering, as though resonating. In the distance, a Lamp Guarder cried out in astonishment, "The lamps in the Light River Corridor lit themselves without a breath of wind! Their light brightens and dims with the melody!"
"It's the children's song!" an elder said, his voice trembling. "The children's song has stirred the fire river in the earth's veins!"
This was the “Children’s Fire Song,” which the children had made from the “Hearthfire Record.” They did not understand its deeper meaning; they simply liked how it sounded, so they sang it every day. When they sang, “Food on the stove, warmth in the house,” they went home to light fires and cook porridge; when they sang, “When mortals light lamps, the flame burns forever,” they carried lanterns through the night, lighting the way for those returning home.
But they did not know that the song itself was already a Flame Seed.
Children in the Western Desert sang atop the dunes, "Fire has a home, lamps have a keeper, people have warmth."
As they reached the word "warmth," hot spring water welled up beneath the sand. An oasis that had lain dry for a hundred years turned