The sun never rose that morning.
It hung—suspended behind clouds that didn't move, as if time itself forgot to pass.
The Flamebearers reached the mouth of a narrow canyon carved by wind and memory.The stone walls were etched with markings no one had spoken in ages.
Not warnings.Regrets.
🧍♂️ Vaelrix Slows
He gripped his blade tighter than usual.
He'd been quiet all day. Too quiet.
The farther they walked, the more his steps lagged.The more the shadows seemed to cling to him.
Seren noticed first.
"You alright?"
"Fine," he lied.
🕯️ Kael Sees It
Kael studied the walls—the regret-carvings—and realized something horrifying.
"They're all names."
Alari stepped closer. Eyes wide.
"Names of angels… who chose silence.Who stopped believing before they turned."
🔥 Vaelrix Snaps
"So what?"
His voice echoed. Sharp.
"So what if they did?What if they were tired of waiting for answers that never came?"
The group froze.
"What if Elarion isn't watching?What if he's done with us, and we're just too faithful to admit it?"
Kael:
"Vaelrix…"
"No!" Vaelrix roared. "You all felt it. The silence. The weight. The doubt."
He dropped to one knee.
"I've been burning inside for years.And no one—not dragons, not men, not even the Light—ever answered."
The canyon began to shake.
Not violently… but deeply.Like the world had heard his grief.
👁️ The Breaking Point
Vaelrix fell forward, breathing hard.
The markings on the walls began to glow.Not red. Not dark.
Gold. Soft. Gentle.
Kael whispered:
"It's not anger."
Seren:
"It's… grief."
Alari walked forward and placed a hand on Vaelrix's back.
"He heard you."
🌍 And Then… It Begins
The canyon trembled again.The stones cried out—not from pressure, but from remembrance.
The light came—not from the sky…but from beneath the ground.
A soft pulse…Then a surge.
The air grew thick with presence.
Something… someone… was returning.