The crimson glow of the Heart had vanished, leaving the cathedral bathed in pale, cold light.
Kaelen lay weak but alive, the weight of the Abyss lifting from his shoulders like a fading nightmare. Liora sat beside him, holding his hand, grounding him to the world they had almost lost.
Outside, the Rift trembled once more—but this time, it began to seal. Cracks mended, shadows retreated, and the oppressive darkness thinned like morning mist.
Liora rose and looked out over the horizon, where the first rays of dawn painted the sky in soft golds and pinks. The battle had been won—but the scars remained, etched deep into their souls and the land itself.
Kaelen's voice was faint but steady.
"We've been given a second chance."
She smiled through tears.
"A chance to rebuild. To protect. To heal."
The Keepers of old were gone, but new ones would rise—stronger, wiser, united by the trials they had endured.
As the sun broke fully over Aelthar, light spilled into every shadow.
And hope, fragile but fierce, blossomed anew.
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