The world did not end in a blaze. It ended in silence.
Smoke drifted across the ruined plateau of Caelum Reach, where only hours ago, chants and laughter filled the air. Now, silence reigned. The ashes of the once-proud Firelight Temple still glowed, but even the embers seemed too tired to burn.
Kaen stood at the edge of a shattered stone archway, cloak torn, one eye half-shut from dried blood, and the glint of battle still lingering in his pupils. He clutched the charred emblem of the Firelight Initiates in one hand, now more relic than badge. His breath came slowly, the weight of what had happened pressing down on him harder than the cracked sky above.
Behind him, the survivors stirred. Not many—barely a dozen of them. Most were younger than him. A few, like Zeri and Rhyen, had their own wounds to tend. Kaen didn't speak. He didn't need to. Not yet.
"You shouldn't have pushed it, Kaen," came a voice behind him. Familiar. Dry. Unshaken.
It was Eldan, always too calm for the situations they found themselves in. His robes were scorched, his glasses cracked, but he carried the ancient Flame Codex under one arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kaen didn't turn. "If I hadn't, they would have taken the Heartstone."
Eldan sighed. "And now we have nothing. Except memories. And a curse awakened."
Those last words made Kaen turn. His gaze met Eldan's. There was no doubt in them, only the slow burn of shared knowledge. They both knew what had been unleashed in the battle—something that should have never seen the light of this era.
Far below the broken plateau, deep beneath the earth, something ancient stirred. A soft pulse, like a heartbeat wrapped in fire, echoed in the roots of the world. Unseen. Unheard. But felt.
Kaen stepped away from the edge.
"Then we light another path," he said. "If the fire won't guide us anymore... we become the fire."
No one cheered. No one shouted. But every single survivor looked up.
The embers hadn't died.
They had moved.
Into them.