The first prototype was beautiful in theory—Runemistress Vallina had embedded aether-infused magestones within a copper casing. Its glow was subtle, shifting like moonlight underwater. For a moment, it hummed.
Then it sputtered.
"It flickers like a dying firefly," Sharath muttered.
"Aether can't stabilize," Vallina argued. "Not without a binding medium."
They etched deeper glyphs. Switched stones. Adjusted frequencies. One attempt exploded violently, sending shards into the walls and singeing Vallina's robe. Sharath threw himself between her and the second burst.
"No more burns," he growled, his patience worn raw.
Late that night, he sat alone, one cracked stone cradled in his palm. Its light pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
Elina found him there. "You can't fix everything at once."
He looked up. "If we don't solve this... they'll keep using flame. And people will keep burning."