Morning rose soft and gold over the Ember Village, the light weaving through the smoke of cooking fires and catching in the sea of red hair like sparks drifting upward.
Zelene stood beside the carriage, adjusting her cloak while Ray checked the reins and Finn tried to stop a group of children from climbing into the luggage.
The entire village had gathered—every face familiar now, every voice part of a warm hum she had grown used to in only a day.
Corvin approached last.
His pack was slung over his shoulder, his posture steady, but his eyes…
His eyes held the quiet ache of someone leaving a piece of himself behind.
Saela waited for him, leaning lightly on her cane.
"You've decided then," she said softly.
"Yes," Corvin answered. "My place is with her."
Saela's lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
"As it was for those before you."
Corvin bowed deeply, not as a warrior, not as a leader —
but as a grandson.
"Grandmother… thank you. For everything."
She placed her palm gently against his cheek.
"Go, child," she whispered. "The flame inside you was never meant to stay in one hearth."
He swallowed, nodding once.
But before he could even turn—
"HOY, YOUNG MASTER!"
A loud shout erupted from behind them.
Half the village was gathered there — elders, hunters, mothers with children on their hips. And every single one of them was wearing the same grin.
Corvin closed his eyes for a long, pained second.
Finn blinked.
"…Young master?"
Ray raised an eyebrow.
Zelene glanced at Corvin. "Young master?"
Corvin cleared his throat with the dignity of a man trying very hard not to combust on the spot.
"It is not—strictly—a formal title," he muttered.
From the crowd:
"It absolutely IS a title!"
"Corvin! Don't forget us when you become all important!"
"Take care of yourself!"
"And take care of HER!" another shouted, pointing at Zelene with zero subtlety.
Zelene nearly choked on air.
Corvin's composure cracked beautifully.
"Stop—please—stop talking—"
"Oh, he's blushing!" someone yelled.
"He's redder than our hair!"
"That's because he's finally found someone with hair brighter than his future!"
Finn started laughing so hard he nearly fell off the carriage step.
Zelene pressed both palms to her face.
Ray sighed into his hand.
Corvin looked like a man being publicly executed by affection.
"Everyone," he tried, "I'm simply fulfilling a vow—"
"A vow to follow your destined one!"
"That's what the elders said!"
"That girl's the leader your ancestors waited for! Of course you're following her!"
"We're proud of you, young master!"
Corvin's dignity—what little was left—dissolved.
"Can I leave now?" he begged.
Zelene lowered her hands, cheeks pink, and offered him a tiny, helpless smile.
"Corvin… maybe we should…"
But before she could finish, Saela raised her voice — gentle but commanding.
"Enough teasing. Let him go."
The crowd immediately softened, their laughter melting into warm farewells.
One by one they approached — touching Corvin's shoulder, squeezing his hand, offering blessings and jokes woven together.
"Walk with flame."
"Eat well."
"Don't brood too much."
"Write to us, or we'll come drag you home."
Then they turned to Zelene — respectful, reverent, hopeful.
"Take care of him, Silver Dawn."
"Lead him well."
"The world has been waiting for you."
Zelene didn't know what to say.
So she simply nodded, throat tight.
Finally, Corvin stepped toward the carriage and opened the door for her.
When their eyes met, his voice dropped to a soft murmur.
"Don't mind them," he said.
"They tease because they love fiercely."
Zelene smiled, faint and sincere.
"I know."
Corvin hesitated — as though wanting to say more —
but instead he bowed his head to Saela one last time.
"Farewell, Grandmother."
"Go," she whispered. "And don't look back. The world beyond this valley needs you more than we ever will."
With that…
Corvin climbed into the carriage.
Ray flicked the reins.
Finn waved dramatically to the villagers.
And the Ember Village — warm, bright, hidden among mist and mountains —
slowly disappeared behind them, shrinking into memory.
As the wheels creaked along the dirt path, Zelene looked back only once.
The red-haired people were still standing there, waving, shining against the dawn like sparks rising from a fire.
And beside her, Corvin sat silently…
carrying the weight of a goodbye she knew was heavier than he let show.