The Hollowing was behind them, but its echo remained in Kaelin’s blood.
Back in Ashmark, she walked through the halls of stone and memory with a quiet reverence. The people had sensed the shift. No one spoke of flame. They spoke of will. They whispered names in their prayers—not to worship, but to remember.
And still, the golden shard was gone.
Not destroyed.
Transformed.
Kaelin no longer needed its light to lead. The Hollowing had shown her something even rarer than truth:
The power of being heard.
---
A child met her at the Ashgate.
Sera.
Her eyes were no longer shadowed with doubt. Her hand clutched a journal.
“I wrote it all down,” she said. “Every word from the dreams. From him. From you.”
Kaelin took the leather-bound book.
Sera glanced down. “If I forget again… will you
