The gravel crunched softly beneath Kael's boots.
Mist clung to the earth like a memory that refused to fade.
Madus followed two steps behind. Silent. Steady. Loyal.
It had been forty-seven sunsets since Marie.
And Kael still heard her.
Not in words.
In wind. In fire.
In the stillness between thoughts.
He no longer looked into mirrors.
Not because he feared what he'd see—
…but because sometimes, he feared what he wouldn't.
---
The League was waiting.
Rhem Fortress stood where reality blurred.
A place built by those who had long stopped counting centuries.
Inside, the air was cold. The silence older than language.
"You're late," Mister said, eyes on a book that looked like it might bite if closed too fast.
Kael didn't flinch.
"I'm on time."
Mister turned a page.
"She refused, didn't she?"
Kael gave a single nod.
His eyes were locked on the blue fire that flickered in the center of the room.
The Flame of Memory.
It had burned for thousands of years—
fed by fragments of immortal lives.
Kael reached into his coat.
A small vial. Glass and copper.
Inside, a single golden hair.
Marie.
"I want to place her," he said.
Mister looked up.
"She was a profane."
"She made me human."
Kael stepped forward.
"Doesn't that count for something?"
Silence.
Then the book closed with a soft thud.
"…This changes everything."
Kael walked to the flame.
Uncorked the vial.
Released the strand.
And for the first time in recorded eternity—
the Flame of Memory turned lavender.