The flicker in her hands was gentle now, no longer just warmth, something that lived. It became a sacred object that Serena cradled as though it contained the breath of the planet. It didn't burn. It pulsed. Like a heartbeat.
The chamber around them paused, stilling and watching.
Lucian stepped back, silent. Elias hadn't looked away from Serena since the brazier had lost its glow again. Not once.
"We have to go," Lucian said, his voice low.
"No," Serena replied. "Not yet."
She paced the circle, fingers grazing the stone wall. The names hummed a little under her fingertips, as if they recognized who she was now. They whispered. Not with words, but with feelings.
She stopped at one carving. It was carved deeper than the other layers, lines worn down but holding steady.
Eryndor Valen. Flame keeper. First of the Guard.
He had once stood here, she knew, as she had — she didn't know how she knew, but she did. Maybe with fire in his hands. Maybe with a vow in his heart.
