The city of Dareth lay silent in the days that followed the storm of light.The temple fires had gone cold. The banners of judgment were torn down by trembling hands. People wandered through the streets, dazed, as if waking from a dream that had lasted too long.
But amid the confusion, one truth spread swiftly — the stranger of light was gone, and in his place, a woman now walked who bore his radiance.
Amara could feel it before she saw it. The warmth that once surrounded Lori now pulsed faintly beneath her skin, as though her heart beat in rhythm with something greater. When she breathed, the air itself seemed to shimmer.
She did not understand it at first. Every step she took left behind a faint glow that faded slowly, like the memory of a candle's flame. Children followed her through the streets. The sick reached out to touch her. When she lifted her hands to calm them, their fear melted into quiet peace.
"I'm not him," she would say softly. "The light belongs to all of us."
But few believed her. To them, she was his echo, his living miracle.
That night, Amara went to the old temple, now abandoned. The pyre still stood in the courtyard, untouched by flame. She knelt before it, her tears falling into the ashes.
"Lori," she whispered. "You said the light goes where it's needed. But I don't know how to carry it. I don't know what to do."
The wind stirred faintly, and the torches along the walls flickered to life without flame. A voice, soft and familiar, rose within her heart — not from above, but from within.
"You already are, Amara."
She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "Lori?"
His voice came like the echo of a dream. "The light was never mine alone. It was always meant to be shared. You are its keeper now — not to rule, but to remind."
Her tears fell freely. "But I'm not strong like you."
"You are stronger," the voice whispered. "Because you doubt, and still choose to believe."
Then the temple grew still again, and she knew he was gone — but not lost.
In the days that followed, Amara began to walk the city streets, visiting the broken and forgotten. The fear that had poisoned Dareth started to lift. Neighbors who once accused one another now worked together. The priests who had condemned Lori came to her quietly, asking forgiveness.
She never preached. She never claimed power. She simply listened, touched, and spoke with kindness. And in that gentle work, people began to remember what they had once forgotten — that light had always lived among them.
At night, she would climb to the rooftop of the temple and look toward the horizon. Sometimes she thought she saw a faint glow far away, like a star that lingered only for her.
One evening, a child she had healed asked her, "Lady Amara, will he ever come back?"
She smiled softly. "He never left. He lives wherever love is stronger than fear."
But as Dareth began to heal, the world beyond its walls still burned. The lies of Elder Taren had spread far, and many still hunted the "light-bearers." Armies were forming, cities closing their gates. The temple in Mirana — where it had all begun — now stood at the center of the growing darkness.
Amara knew what she had to do. The voice within her whispered the same truth each night: You must return.
She gathered those who believed — farmers, healers, children, even a few former soldiers. They became known as The Circle of Dawn. Together they prepared to travel back to the valley of Mirana, where Lori had first appeared, and where fear still ruled.
On the eve of their journey, Amara stood before her small band. The sun was setting, painting the sky in gold.
"Lori gave his light so we could remember who we are," she said. "Now it's our turn to give it back to the world."
Her followers knelt, not in worship, but in unity. The air around them glowed faintly — not from her alone, but from all of them together.
The light had multiplied.
As they set out across the plains, Amara felt the presence of Lori beside her, unseen yet near, like warmth on her shoulder.
The road ahead would be long. The shadows would rise again. But this time, she was not alone.
For the light among them had become the light within them.