Thalen stood on the Citadel's western ramparts, watching the Memory Flame torches flicker across the valley. The heartbeat of villages illuminated by soft light—names echoing in the night. It had been weeks since the Restoration, yet the atmosphere was charged with hope and cautious tension. Not peace, not yet—but a fragile promise.
He turned as footsteps approached. Renal and Emberane joined him, the Crown envoy trailing behind. Their faces were solemn.
Emberane spoke first. "I have to return south tomorrow—to Selyra."
Thalen nodded. "Guild historians await. You'll record more stories."
She shivered slightly. "But south is where Shadehand violence resurfaced weeks ago. They burned the memory stones. We need to go soon."
He placed a hand on her arm. "Then we ride together."
Renal exhaled. "There's another matter."
Thalen and Emberane turned to him. "The Crown council… they're uneasy. They fear this Memory Flame—now public—could become a rallying symbol for rebellion."
