Liora cried. Not that dramatic, ugly sobbing, but something quieter, like a sigh that's been stuck in your chest for years finally finding a way out. Every tear was a tiny jailbreak. Her hands shook when she reached for Maelin—like she needed something solid, not someone to fight. For ages, her voice had been locked up, gathering dust. Now, it crawled out—soft and weirdly hopeful, like sunlight after an all-nighter.
The Stillwater Caverns kinda sparkled. Not in a fairytale way, more like the crystals were waking up, cracking open so new stuff could get out. The walls—these weird, shiny things that used to just reflect old memories—started pulsing with light. Like, actual constellations moving across them. Memories, but alive.
Maelin didn't say a word. She just stood next to Liora, doing that thing where you're close but not in the way. Sometimes you don't need pep talks, you just need someone who gets it.
Liora glanced up, voice shaky but hers again. "You heard me… even when I'd forgotten how to talk."
Maelin's smile was small but kinda fierce. "You were never actually quiet. People just weren't listening."
Liora pressed her palm to the crystal wall. It melted—seriously, just faded away—and showed flashes of her old life: a star-temple packed with kids humming old tunes, the Choir lined up in these blinding golden cloaks, and Elara—always dead center, voice pulling everyone in like gravity.
Then came the worst memory: the Choir falling apart.
Everyone splitting—fear, jealousy, sadness, you name it, it pulled them apart. Liora's own reflection hung back the longest, watching herself fade out. Then… absolute silence.
"I thought that was peace," she mumbled. "But it was just loneliness with a mask on."
She turned to Maelin. "You showed me I still have a voice. I want back in."
Maelin rummaged in her satchel. The Tharos obsidian shard was glowing, no joke, like someone had trapped a fire inside it. Liora stepped closer. A crystal filament just appeared—like magic, but not cheesy—and wrapped around the shard. Her memories, her voice, her spark—coming home.
Kaelen stepped in from the shadows, face unreadable as usual, looking like he'd walked out of a noir film.
"Two voices now," he said. "The Choir's waking up."
Liora nodded. "They need to sing together this time. No one's in charge."
She touched her fingers to Maelin's forehead. "You're holding more than you realize. Your song… it's bigger than just you."
And then, poof—she didn't die or anything, just sort of slipped into the crystal, her echo joining Tharos in the star-map.
Maelin looked at Kaelen, eyebrows raised. "So, who's next?"
He just tilted his head, staring up past the rock, the lake—like he could see through everything to the stars shifting overhead.
"There," he said, pointing. "City of Ash and Bells."