In the sacred archives, Elira summoned the forgotten pact—etched in celestial flame long ago.
The Ember Pact.
A ritual written in the Old Flame's tongue. Dangerous. Forbidden.
"If I invoke this, I will bind my flame to his," she said to Aran. "If he falls… I fall."
Aran's voice trembled. "Then I'll take it instead."
But Elira shook her head.
"He's part of me. The flame he carries… I felt it before you ever drew your first sword."
Their hands met over the scroll.
Together, they spoke the vow:
"If he burns, we burn. If he rises, we rise."
Far away, Lioran flinched. A second flame lit beside his own.
His mother's.