The wind that swept through the ruined garden wasn't natural.
It whispered.
It remembered.
I stood at the shattered fountain in the Academy's heart, ash coating the cracked stone. What remained of the First Flame flickered inside my chest — not as a weapon, but as something deeper. A will. A choice.
The world had begun to unravel without magic. The Codex was blank. The runes were gone. Even the air felt emptier, like the realm was exhaling its final breath.
Yet I could feel the last thread pulsing inside me.
Lilith approached slowly, cloak fluttering, her eyes a little softer than usual.
"It's almost time, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, gripping the hilt of the ritual blade. "The Flame wants to burn again. But not to fight."
"Then what?"
"To remake."
She placed her palm on my chest. "And are you ready for that?"
I met her gaze. "No. But I'm willing."
She leaned forward, her lips brushing my ear. "Then let's remake it together."
