The next morning
Liora wore her traveling cloak—not the ceremonial one. The practical one. Soft leather. Simple tunic beneath. No markings.
Only the old flame-shaped pendant hung at her neck.
The council stood in a tight semi-circle outside the den.
Kaelen was conspicuously absent.
But Liora knew where he was.
Watching.
Waiting.
Just like he promised.
Sienna handed her a waterskin and leaned in. "If you feel it's wrong, turn back. Don't let prophecy become a leash."
Liora nodded.
Kael placed a hand on her shoulder. "And don't be afraid to speak your name. Not the one they remember. The one you became."
She nodded again.
Then she turned and walked.
No guards.
No escort.
Just wind.
And the pulse of something calling her forward from beyond the known.
---
The journey
The cliffs rose higher than she remembered. At their base, the world was quiet—not empty, but listening.
She followed the trail left in her vision.
The spiral of stone.
