The mountain was silent for the first time in centuries.
Not still — silent.
Lyraen could hear her own pulse echoing in her ears, too loud, too fast. The chamber around her had changed — the walls now shone like liquid crystal, breathing faintly as if alive. The forge's ember floated above Kael, burning with quiet purpose.
He lay on the stone floor, eyes closed, but light bled from the seams of his skin — faint and rhythmic, like the heartbeat of a newborn star.
Lyraen took a step closer. The air bent around him, shimmering as though reality itself didn't know what shape to take.
"Kael," she whispered.
No answer.
She crouched, reaching out — then stopped when the floor trembled beneath her palm. The stone wasn't solid anymore. It was translucent, and through it she could see light moving below, flowing like rivers under glass.
Far below, deeper than the mountain's roots, something vast was turning.
A pulse rippled through the ground, up through her bones. It wasn't sound. It was recognition.
All across Eirath, the same pulse answered.
The northern skies cracked open with auroras that painted words no scholar could read.
In the western sea, tides froze mid-wave as luminous shapes stirred beneath the surface.
In the capital of Mirane, every mirror reflected a different sky.
And in the far deserts, nomads looked up to see a second sun rising — one that breathed.
Lyraen's knees weakened. The forge wasn't awakening one power. It was awakening the world.
She looked back at Kael. The glow within him steadied. His chest rose and fell slowly, rhythmically. For a heartbeat, the light in the forge and the light in his body pulsed together — perfectly in sync.
Then his eyes opened.
They were no longer just blue. They were reflections of everything.
Stars, storms, oceans — she could see whole galaxies moving in them, like reflections on deep water.
"Kael?" she breathed.
He turned toward her, and for an instant she saw not a man, but the memory of what creation looked like before it had names.
Then the image faded. He blinked, confusion flickering across his face. "Lyraen… how long—?"
"Hours. Maybe days. I—" She stopped, glancing up as the mountain shook again. "The world is changing."
Kael stood. The light within him dimmed slightly, settling into a steady glow beneath his skin. He looked toward the ember, which hovered silently above the forge.
"It's not done," he said quietly. "It's waiting for me to finish what it started."
Lyraen swallowed. "And if you do?"
Kael's gaze hardened, though there was sorrow in it. "Then everything changes — forever."
Outside, the mountain split with a sound like thunder turned inside out.
Rivers of molten light poured into the sky, carving new constellations across the dawn.
Lyraen shielded her eyes. The last thing she saw before the light swallowed everything was Kael walking into it — the forge's radiance bending around him like a crown.