The realm shimmered in the aftermath of Queen Iridell's fall. The In-Between—once fractured and chaotic—now pulsed gently, like a world exhaling after centuries of pain. Cracks mended. Sky and soil found harmony. The winds whispered, not of war, but of wonder.
Liora stood at the edge of the altar, her eyes glowing faintly. The ember within her no longer burned like a wildfire—it pulsed with rhythm and purpose, calm as the breath of the world itself. Her hands opened at her sides, palms turned toward the sky, as if releasing everything she had carried.
Kael stepped beside her. "You did it," he said quietly. "It's over."
"No," Liora whispered. "It's just beginning."
Ashara walked across the newly reformed stone floor, scanning the glowing horizon. "The Queen may be gone, but echoes of her power still linger. Across the realms, there will be wounds to heal."
Elestria nodded. "And we have to ensure the flame never falls into chains again."
Thalen knelt and pressed his hand to the ground. "The ley lines are active again. Restless, but realigning."
Liora turned to face them, the last light of battle fading from her skin. "This ember doesn't belong to me alone. It never did. It belongs to the world."
They began their journey home, though "home" no longer looked the same. Forests once twisted with corruption began to bloom. Rivers poisoned by ember-burn shimmered clean again. Villages trapped in cycles of shadow blinked into the light, freed from time's unnatural grip.
The people emerged—some fearful, others filled with awe. They flocked to the returning flame, not as worshippers, but as witnesses. Something sacred stirred again.
In the heart of the Emberlands, where once the Temple of First Flame stood, only blackened ruins remained. But even in ash, life stirred. Green shoots crept through broken stone. Children laughed and played in the courtyard. The wounded found shelter, the lost found direction.
Liora stood in the center of it all. No longer a fugitive. No longer just a bearer.
She was a guide.
On the eve of the New Flame, the companions gathered where the temple's heart had once blazed. In its place now stood a new brazier, unlit but waiting.
Ashara stepped forward and placed something within it—a small ember, glowing gently. A piece of the True Flame.
"This time," she said, "it must be chosen freely."
Liora looked out at the crowd that had gathered—young and old, commoners and nobles, outcasts and former warriors.
"This flame is not to be feared," she said, voice steady. "It's not a weapon. It's not a crown. It is a gift. And tonight, we return it to you."
One by one, the people stepped forward. Some touched the brazier in reverence. Others stood in silence, simply bearing witness.
And when the last child placed their hand upon the stone, the flame stirred.
A slow pulse. A golden flicker. Then a burst of soft fire, not wild, not roaring—but alive.
A new flame.
A shared flame.
All around them, torches lit without touch. Trees glowed from within. Songs rose unbidden. Even the wind felt warmer.
Later that night, Liora sat beneath the stars on the temple's edge, watching the flicker of firelight across the valley.
Kael joined her, brushing soot from her sleeve. "You look like someone who just rewrote the rules of the world."
"I feel like someone who just started over," she said.
"You think it'll last?" he asked.
She didn't answer right away.
"I don't know," she said finally. "But peace isn't a single act. It's a choice. One we'll have to keep making."
Kael looked at her, eyes soft. "Then we'll keep making it. Together."
She leaned into him, and the flame pulsed again in the distance—as if agreeing.
Ashara, Elestria, and Thalen watched from afar, smiles on their faces, scars on their hearts—but hope in their hands.
The fallen flame, once a source of destruction, had become something else entirely.
A promise.
An ember of tomorrow.