**Chapter 128: Ashes and Answers**
The air was thick with smoke, but not from battle. It came from pyres lit across the world—ritual flames, memorials to the fallen. Each one whispered the names of the lost, a chorus of grief carried through River's magical network like wind in a haunted forest.
Liana stood at the center of the old Council Hall, now emptied of thrones. In their place stood a single white pillar. Upon it rested the shattered remains of a fear crystal, still humming with residual power.
"Is it over?" Rowan asked softly, his voice barely more than a murmur.
Liana didn't answer at first. Her hands hovered over the crystal. She felt its echoing screams, the false obedience it demanded of others. It still pulsed faintly with fear.
"No," she said finally. "Not until we've made sure this never happens again."
