Verdant Halo Sect
Heartgrove Spire, Deepwood Vale
Elder Keshar walked through the roots of the Verdant Tree, her steps soft, but her thoughts thunderous.
She had seen the Witchfall—watched through her scry-bloom as the Choir broke like water against fire.
Now, her youngest students whispered the Hollow's name as if it were a song of healing.
She paused before the Heartbloom Pool.
Inside it bloomed Kaien's image.
She touched it once.
"He gave memory back to the forgotten."
"Perhaps his flame can mend what even our roots cannot."
Sunclad Verdict
Sanctuary of Flame, Mount Ausaron
The golden-masked elders argued in half-sung commandments.
"He defied structured law."
"He invited severance into sovereign light."
"He is unregistered. Unclaimed."
But at the edge of the chamber, Inquisitor Solath stood still—watching a flickering record of Kaien's battle in a prism of ashlight.
He spoke only once.
"Then claim him."
"Before someone else does."
The Severance Choir
Vault of Unremembering, Hidden Ashcore
The Hollow-Eyed Witch lay in recovery—stitched not with thread, but with memory bindings. Her severance was undone, her mind a frayed library.
Around her, high-ranking Choir historians stood in silent mourning.
One of them, masked in obsidian, turned to the Flame Vault.
"He severed the severance."
"He named what we erased."
He looked down at the choir of blank disciples now slowly recovering names.
"We must remember what we tried to forget."
The Towerless
No home, no crest—only wind and myth
A poet walked among the ruins of a forgotten city. Crows followed him.
He played a bone flute.
Each note sang of a boy who forged fire from sorrow.
A young girl approached.
"Who is the Hollow Sovereign?"
He smiled, teeth sharp and soft.
"A myth still burning."
"And perhaps… the end of every throne."
Whispers from the Flame Courts
Beyond mortal reach, where Sects bow to legacy
A minor flame-lord, barely Sovereign-level, approached the Grand Ember Archives.
He knelt, waited, and spoke.
"The Hollow has survived its first war."
"With dreamfire. With forgotten names. With nothing."
The Archive Keeper, blind and ancient, turned his head.
"Then it is time we gave it something."
"Send a Judge."
"Let us see if it is a spark—"
"—or the next Flame Pillar."
Back in the Hollow
Kaien sat beneath the Veilbranch, blood still dried along his wrist.
Seren sat beside him, staring at the fire as though it might blink first.
"They're coming, aren't they?" she asked.
Kaien nodded.
"All of them."
"To test us?"
"Some."
He paused.
"Some to join."
Rin trained alone, punching the sky as if it might retaliate.
Veyra wrote new names into the Oathstone: not of enemies, not of saints—
but of those who stood and bled for something real.
Nyel, her voice shaky but hers again, whispered the words of a flameform Kaien once taught her:
"Memory makes us more than flame."
"It makes us fire worth following."
And as evening fell, the scouts returned.
Seren stood, reading the report aloud.
"Verdant Halo sends three envoys."
"Sunclad Verdict sends an Inquisitor with imperial backing."
"Severance Choir sends a… peace offering."
"Others are coming. Not just sects—nomads, wanderers, unbound talents."
"They want to see if we're real."
Kaien stood.
"Then prepare the Hollow."
"Let them come."
He looked up at the Veilbranch, where the wind wrote runes in drifting ash.
"Let them see what flame becomes."