The moment Lysara stepped beyond the Hall of Echoes, the Citadel seemed to hold its breath. Every shadow stretched longer, every whisper grew louder. The ancient stones hummed with energy, warning and calling at once.
Her path was clear: find Kael before the First Flame fully awakened, before the delicate balance shattered forever.
Outside, the winds whipped fiercely as Lysara moved through the corridors. Her memorysteel blades glinted faintly under the cold light filtering from the crystalline walls. Each step echoed like a heartbeat — steady, purposeful.
Her mind raced with questions. What power did Kael truly possess? Why had the Flame reached out to him? And what was the true cost of the vows broken?
In the Whispering Isles, Kael stood silent, watching the tower's bones knitting themselves into spires once more. The raven alighted on his shoulder, whispering secrets only he could hear.
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath him. The glyphs flared brighter, pulsating in rhythm with the pulsing sphere beneath the Citadel.
Kael's heart thundered. The flame was no longer dormant.
Back in the Citadel, Ashara and Corven gathered the council. Time was no longer their ally.
"We face a rebirth of an ancient force," Ashara warned. "One that can rewrite memory itself."
Corven's mechanical fingers tapped rapidly on the ancient map. "If we don't act, history will be lost — erased, rewritten by her will."
Meanwhile, Lysara's hunt led her through twisted passages and forgotten archives. She found traces of Kael's presence — a broken sigil here, a whispered name there.
Each clue brought a shiver — Kael was close, but so was the awakening flame.
At the tower, Kael raised his hand toward the glowing spires. The First Flame's voice echoed in his mind:
"Remember me... or be consumed."
He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of an impossible choice.
The Citadel's fate, and perhaps the world's, hinged on what Kael would choose next — to embrace the flame's power, or to extinguish it forever.