The morning the first traveling Hearth departed, the entire Commons gathered to see it off.
It wasn’t a parade. There were no horns or banners. Just quiet hands fastening the last scroll into its case, a boy brushing dust from a wheel rim, and a grandmother wrapping lavender cloth around the cart’s handle.
They called the first one Ember.
Painted in soft greys and woodgrain, its shutters were lined with threadwork donated from every district. Inside, benches folded out like petals. In the center was a low firebox, not for heat—but for light.
Oren adjusted the axle one last time. Mina checked the voice archive twice.
"This won’t be the last," she said.
"No," I said. "It’s only the first breath."
The first Keepers climbed aboard—six of them, one for each ward. Among them: a teacher, a
