Firewind oneshots

The biting wind whipped around Wind Archer, carrying the scent of ash and sulfur. Dragon's Valley loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the perpetually smoky sky. Every step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the knowledge of what awaited him: the corrupted form of the one he loved, Fire Spirit, now known as the Lord of Ashes.
He clutched the bow in his hand, its familiar weight a cold comfort. Millennial Tree's words echoed in his mind, a gentle warning that couldn't soften the blow of Fire's transformation. He knew this land was hostile, its very essence feeding the darkness that had consumed his beloved.
A low rumble vibrated through the ground, a chilling welcome to the fiery domain. Wind Archer steeled himself, his emerald eyes scanning the desolate landscape of molten rock and towering volcanoes. This wasn't just a mission of duty; it was a desperate plea from his own heart.
