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Chapter 81 - Ash and Oaths

Location: Emberfall Citadel – One Week After the Fall

POV: Caelis Thorne

The banners were half-raised.

Not in mourning—but in caution.

The kind that follows when empires crumble and no one knows what stands in their place.

Caelis walked through the main hall of Emberfall Citadel, his boots echoing over marble still scorched from the tyrant's reign. The throne that once held Vauryx's weight now sat hollow.

Empty.

As if daring anyone to claim it.

The War Table

Leaders from the fractured dominions filled the chamber. Some wore armor. Others robes. A few carried blades sheathed in smiles.

Seris stood beside him, her presence quiet but steel-forged. Ashren had not yet returned from the deep sanctum below. He was still—changing.

Caelis faced the gathered rulers.

"Vauryx is dead," he said. "But the damage he did lives in every border, every betrayal, every grave we've yet to bury."

A murmur spread.

He raised a hand.

"We do not need a new god. We need a new pact."

A Kingdom Without a King

An old woman—High Scribe Thalra of Vensari—stood. "And who will lead this pact?"

Eyes turned.

Some to Caelis. Some to Seris.

But most toward the empty throne.

He hesitated.

"I fought for vengeance," Caelis said, "not for power."

"You bled for peace," Seris murmured. "And that makes you the only one here who deserves it."

Caelis looked to her. "And what about Ashren?"

The Shadow Reborn

A gust of silver wind spiraled into the chamber.

Ashren appeared—quiet, gaunt, and more light than man.

"The flame sleeps," he said. "But not forever. You'll need more than one sword to keep peace."

He stepped beside Caelis.

"I will not lead this world. But I'll defend it."

Caelis nodded.

And turned to the hall.

"Then let this be our oath," he declared. "No throne. No tyrant. Just flame-forged unity."

Final Scene – The Pact of Ashfall

Hands raised.

Magic sealed.

And in the heart of the broken realm, a new alliance was born—not of crowns, but of purpose.

The Age of Ember had ended.

But what rose next would be tempered in fire—and bound by vengeance turned to hope.

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