Kaelen awoke before dawn, sweat cooling on his brow. His room felt changed—lighter, as if a long-held tension had eased. The embers in the hearth glowed a steady gold, not the usual restless blue. He flexed his hands, expecting the familiar ache, but found only a quiet strength. For the first time in memory, he didn't feel alone.
He dressed quickly, drawn by a restless energy. As he stepped outside, the city of Veylaris seemed subtly transformed. The stone beneath his feet hummed with a new vitality, and the air tasted of rain and ash, the scents mingling as if the world itself couldn't settle on one element.
Ryn found him on the bridge above the lower forges, eyes wide. "The Pillar's calm," he said in awe. "The cracks—they're healing. Elders say it's a sign."
Kaelen nodded, heart beating faster. "A sign of what?"
Ryn shrugged, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Change. Maybe hope."
Kaelen gazed toward the Emerald Spire, its surface now smooth and gleaming, the pulse of magic strong and sure. He remembered Lysera's hand in his, the merging of star and tide, the way the Inner Domain had begun to mend. Was it possible their souls could heal the world's wounds as well as their own?
A distant cry echoed above the rooftops—a flash of emerald wings, the Ziz soaring in the dawn. Where its shadow passed, flowers bloomed in the cracks of the old stone. The city watched, hushed and reverent.
Kaelen turned to Ryn. "I need to know more—about the Pillars, the soul, all of it. Will you help me?"
Ryn grinned. "You never had to ask."
Across the sea in Aquarion, Lysera woke to sunlight streaming through her vines and the gentle sound of water cascading in the courtyard. Selara greeted her with a bright smile. "You look different. Rested."
Lysera smiled, feeling the same steadiness that Kaelen had discovered. "I feel… connected. Like I belong, for the first time."
She spent the morning tending the healing pools, her magic flowing easily, the water beneath her hands cool and vibrant. Wounded fish darted away, scales gleaming with new life. The healers watched in wonder as Lysera coaxed blossoms from the water's surface, each one a promise of renewal.
As she knelt by the largest pool, Lysera closed her eyes and reached inward. The ache was gone, replaced by a quiet hope. She knew that somewhere, Kaelen felt the same.
When she opened her eyes, a single feather—blue shot with gold—floated down from the open skylight. Lysera caught it, heart fluttering. A sign, she thought, or perhaps a blessing.
The world was healing, and so were they. But in the distant shadows beyond the city walls, something watched and waited, hungering for the fracture to return.