Elira stood at the crumbling edge of the City of Cinders, the wind pulling at her cloak like a warning. Before her, a vast gray expanse stretched toward the horizon — the Hollowing Sea. It was no ordinary ocean; its waves shimmered with an unnatural metallic sheen, and the sky above it swirled with clouds that never broke, never rained.
> "It was once a place of healing," Kael said quietly, stepping beside her. "A sacred ocean. But when Mareth opened the Rift, its waters lost their soul."
> "And the third ember is out there?" she asked.
Kael nodded. "In the ruins of Selmor, beneath the sea. A city swallowed whole during the Sundering."
They descended a narrow cliff path to the shore, where half-buried wreckage littered the sand — bones of ships and strange sea creatures turned to stone. The air smelled of rust and sorrow.
Elira knelt at the water's edge. It lapped at the shore without sound. The ember in her chest pulsed again — a different rhythm now, like a heartbeat slowed by distance.
> "We'll need a way across," she murmured.
Kael drew a small totem from his satchel — a carved bone disk inlaid with gold. He whispered an incantation, and the waters before them began to part. Not completely — just enough to reveal a submerged path lined with glowing stones, winding far out into the sea.
> "We won't have long," he warned. "Once the sun dips, the sea will take the path back."
They walked.
As they neared the halfway point, the water on either side began to shift. Shapes swam beneath the surface — large, slow, deliberate.
Then came the voices.
Soft at first. Then louder. Whispers, calling Elira's name, then her mother's, then names she didn't even know.
> "Ignore them," Kael said, his voice tight. "They are memories that were drowned. Not yours."
But Elira staggered. The voices pulled at her mind, dredging up grief she'd buried — her brother's disappearance, her village's burning, her guilt.
> "I shouldn't be here," she whispered.
> "You must be here," Kael said, gripping her arm. "You carry what no one else can."
They reached the ruins of Selmor just as the sky began to darken. The submerged city was eerily preserved — stone buildings warped by the sea, statues of guardians leaning askew. In the center stood a broken tower, the top missing, but within it: a pillar of glass encasing the third ember.
As Elira approached, the waters around the tower rippled. A figure rose from the pool — a woman of translucent water and sorrowful eyes.
> "Guardian of the Drowned Flame," Kael whispered.
The guardian spoke not in words, but in feelings — sadness, burden, and warning. She reached out to Elira, who stepped forward, unafraid.
> "You kept it safe," Elira said. "Now let me carry it forward."
The guardian nodded slowly, then dissolved into mist.
The glass shattered, and the third ember floated into Elira's hands. As it joined the other two, a sudden stillness fell over the sea — as though the world were holding its breath.
> "Three flames," Kael whispered. "And still so far to go."
Elira turned toward the horizon.
> "Then let's not waste a moment."
---