They left the temple before noon.
The sunlight outside was pale and thin, filtered through the thorn-covered cliffs like a half-remembered dream. Eren shielded his eyes as they emerged from the shadows, blinking against the sudden brightness. The air felt different here. Lighter, almost.
But not freer.
Behind them, the Temple in Thorns sealed itself without sound. The blackened metal doors slid shut as if exhaling, and the runes carved into them faded to silence once more.
Eren paused, glancing back.
"You're not going to say goodbye?" Elira asked.
He shook his head. "I don't say goodbye to things that tried to kill me."
She almost smiled at that. "Fair."
They took the ridge path heading west, skirting the edge of the Vale's highest cliffs. Below, a river cut through the stone like a silver scar. The road ahead was long, and the next village if it still stood would take two days to reach.
But something tugged at Eren's mind. A question, sharp and quiet.
He turned to Elira. "That trial back there. It didn't just test me. It showed me something."
She kept walking. "It always does."
He caught up. "The guardian said the flame wasn't what ends the world. Blindness does. What did that mean?"
Elira was silent for a time. When she finally answered, her voice was low.
"It means the sword won't destroy you. You will. If you stop seeing who you are beneath what it wants you to become."
Eren exhaled slowly. "Then I need to remember."
They walked in silence for some time, the crunch of boots on gravel their only companion.
That night, they made camp beneath the branches of a dead tree, its limbs reaching skyward like broken fingers. The fire flickered between them, casting long shadows against the cliffs.
Elira handed him a piece of dried meat. "Eat. You've earned it."
Eren took it without a word.
Then asked, "Do you know what the first bearer's real name was?"
Elira blinked. "What brought that on?"
"I saw him again. In the flames during the trial. He wasn't a monster. Not at first."
She leaned back against a stone. "His name was erased. On purpose. The Seers believed if no one remembered it, the cycle would stop. Names carry power, especially when they're tied to memory."
Eren stared into the fire. "So I'll be erased too, if I fail."
"No," she said. "You'll become a name in ash. A warning."
A pause.
Then she added, "But if you survive… you might be the first to rewrite that legacy."
He closed his eyes.
Lyria's face surfaced again.
Her smile, small and steady.
Her voice, soft and strong.
"Don't let them take who you are."
The next morning, they resumed their journey.
On the second day, they reached the remains of a village.
Or what was left of it.
Charred beams. Broken stones. A well filled with ash. The air still carried the faint scent of smoke, though the fires had long since died. No bodies remained but that only made the silence worse.
Eren crouched beside what had once been a home. Children's toys, blackened by flame, lay half-buried in the dirt.
He didn't speak.
Elira joined him, kneeling. "The Red Circle?"
He nodded.
But something wasn't right.
The flames here hadn't spread randomly. The fire had followed paths. Spirals, again. The same pattern seen in the Mourning Fields.
Ritual fire.
"This wasn't destruction," he said. "It was… calling."
Elira touched the ash. "They tried to draw you out again."
"But I wasn't near."
She stood. "Then this was punishment. For the bearer's silence."
Eren rose to his feet, fists clenched.
"We can't let this happen again."
"No," Elira said. "We can't."
He looked down at Akreth, now resting calmly at his side.
"Then I won't be silent anymore."
He drew the blade, its runes flaring as if stirred by purpose.
And with a voice stronger than the fire, he spoke not to Elira, not to the sword, but to the sky.
"To those who watch. To those who wait. To those who burn in the name of false flame I am the bearer, and I am not yours."
The wind picked up, scattering ash into the air.
Somewhere far off, a horn sounded.
A reply.